A New Day Coming
by nerdielady
Summary: Sequel to "Getting to Know You". First semester of Nyota's third year at Star Fleet Academy. Leading up to the movie.
1. Chapter 1: I'm So Lonely I Could Cry

Author's Note: This is the sequel to 'Getting to Know You'. If you have not read that story, I highly recommend that you read it first.

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**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 1 : I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry**

**Spock**

It had been 1 week, 3 days, 4 hours, 16 minutes, and 23 seconds since he had seen her. He had not slept. He could not meditate. He had not realized the extent to which he depended on her to keep him focused, calm, centered. When had she become necessary to his existence?

Perhaps if he could just talk to her?

Once again he found himself seated on the floor of his bedroom, the bottom drawer of the dresser open, inhaling the scent of her on the clothing she wore to meditate. Quite illogically he wished that he had some of her underwear also. He cocked his head, remembering something. He rose from the floor and crossed the room to the closet. There, at the end of the row of neatly hung clothing, were the black silk shirt and black slacks he had worn in Oxford, when they had 'danced'. There at the end, when the music had stopped, she had been so close to his leg that he had felt the heat of her center. Was it possible? He drew the slacks out and pulled the right leg up to his nose. There was a faint odor there. He sniffed along the leg - there, more to the side - a much stronger scent. He inhaled sharply - Ahhhh! Nyota! She must have brushed against him there when the music stopped.

He took the slacks from the closet and crossed to the drawer, retrieving the shirt, then to his bed. He lay down, pulling the slacks close to his face on one side, one armpit of the shirt against the other side of his face. He lay there on his back, the scent of her filling him. Against all logic, he was able to sleep.

****

He has finished the last component. The array assembly will start tomorrow. Surely this is justification for an update. He can call her - this is an acceptable reason. He can hardly wait until he is in his quarters again. Then he thinks of the time difference - she will be sleeping. He must wait.

****

He runs, his normal ten km. He showers. He eats some fruit, a piece of cheese. Finally he judges the time acceptable. He starts toward his com unit, pauses. He goes into his bathroom, looks at himself. His hair is neat. His clothing is neat. He goes back to the com unit, brings up his address book, finds the entry she made. With uncharacteristically shaky hands, he activates that link. And waits. He is about to give up and deactivate the call when she appears on his screen.

He does not wait for her to say anything. "Nyota. It is good to see you." He had not intended to say that - the words just tumbled from his mouth unbidden.

"Spock!" She peers at him, coming closer to the screen on her end of the call. "You look tired. Are you working too hard on the message array? You need to take time to eat and sleep."

He is overwhelmed that she expresses concern for him. Surely this is not appropriate, nevertheless it is very comforting to him. "I have finished the component construction. Assembly of the array will start tomorrow. I .. I have not slept enough."

"Well, sleep then. I know you can go much longer than I could without sleep, but you can't go without it entirely! Isn't there anyone helping you?"

He cocks his head, considers. "No one is helping me. There are few people here at this time of the summer. Even the other instructors are mostly gone. But the array needs to be completed."

"Can't you at least call in some of the technicians? You can't build the whole thing by yourself."

_But she will not return until it is ready for tuning. Therefore, he must build it._

"Remember what you told me before the Oxford Invitational? How I needed to keep my body fed and rested and exercised so that it would function correctly when I needed it to? If you don't eat and sleep and run, your mind is not going to be clear. You will make mistakes."

"Your logic is sound. I have been deficient in my personal maintenance. I do not wish to make mistakes in the construction. Thank you, Nyota. I will attempt to do better."

She looks at the bare desk surface. The mug that normally sits beside his com unit is not there. "Spock, have you finished all of Mama's tea? I could send you send more if you like."

She would send him something? Something that she had touched? Something with her scent fresh on it? "If it would not inconvenience you, Nyota, that would be most welcome."

"I'll get it mailed out this afternoon then." She drops her eyes for a moment, then raises them again, looking straight at him. "It's nice to talk to you again, Spock."

"As it is nice to talk to you, Nyota."

They sit there for a moment, just looking at each other. Then there are voices at her end, people in the background. "I need to go - they are waiting on me. Sorry." She hesitates. "Call me again?"

"I shall be sure to do so."

She ends the call and he sits there for some time, remembering the bright clothing she had been wearing, the lovely sound of her voice, her beautiful face.

**Nyota**

It was so nice to be home again, even if only for a few weeks. She had visited some old friends, spoken to relatives she had not seen in some time, talked for hours with her sisters, helped Mama in the kitchen. And then she was ready to go back - to go back to the Academy which was her life now. But she had no excuse, and Mama would be upset and unhappy if she just left. So she put on a happy face and pretended that she was enjoying the endless shopping trips, the laying around doing nothing in particular. She was so used to being busy, always trying to catch up, that she was slowly going crazy from doing nothing.

Mama and her sisters were urging her to hurry up and get dressed, they wanted to go shopping, when the com-unit buzzed. They said to just ignore it, but for some reason she just couldn't do that. When she answered and saw who the caller was, she was so glad that she ignored them. There was his placid face looking back at her. But for some reason he didn't look at all well. She leaned forward to bring him into better focus. He looked tired. When he admitted to working long hours alone on the message array construction, she almost volunteered to come back and help. But she bit her lip and only urged him to try to find some technicians to help him.

Her sisters kept calling to her, urging her to hurry up and come along, they were ready to leave. Sighing, she told him she must go. Before signing off though, she added "Call me again?"

His response made her inexplicably happy. She bounced off to join her sisters in a much better mood than she had been in for several days.

**Spock**

He was in the gym, lifting weights. With nearly all of the cadets and many of the staff gone for long summer leave, he could set up his weight bar the way he liked it and leave it unchanged for weeks at a time. After the first semester here, he had never tried to use the resistance machinery again - he had broken too many pieces of apparatus. After all, they had been built mainly for the use of humans.

After finishing with the weights, he moved to another area of the gym and continued his workout with some suus mahna katas. When he realized that he was moving at the speed he had adopted for use in instructing Nyota, he stopped. He stood quietly, head hung, _unhappy_. He was not used to this _feeling_. It was not conducive to proper functioning. With a deep sigh, he went to swim laps.

**Nyota**

She measured out some of Mama's newest tea blend into a small metal canister, screwed the lid on tightly. She took a very old pen and a small bottle of very black ink. On a flat white label she very carefully drew the Vulcan letters 'tel' - Terran-style tea. She waited for the ink to dry, then peeled the protective paper off the back of the label and pressed it on the lid of the canister. She placed it into a small box, folded down the flaps and sealed them. Then she went to the com-unit and printed out the mailing label she needed. She took the small box and dropped it in her bag and headed out the door. She would mail this out right now.

****

She sat in the old wooden swing under the trees behind the house, idly pushing herself with one foot. She needed something to DO! Suddenly something occurred to her - no, she couldn't do that! What would he think! But... It was Tuesday afternoon HERE ... Maybe...

She jumped up from the swing and dashed into the house. She hurried upstairs to her room and closed the door. She turned on the old com-unit that had been hers when she was in high school. It only had a small screen, but the sound was still good. She accessed the Academy directory, found the number she wanted and punched it in, holding her breath. She waited while it chimed seven times, almost giving up, then --- there he was!

"Spock, it is 1400 on Tuesday afternoon and it is time for our conversational practice. I thought perhaps you might be able to converse with me while you are working on the array." She spoke in his native dialect, not the formal one used for most communications on Vulcan. His tired face soothed out, the corners of his mouth turning up, one eyebrow rising high above his eye. YES!

**Spock**

With a great sense of relief, he realized that there was a limited amount of construction left to do. The array would be ready for testing and tuning in a few days.

Finally he had a legitimate reason to ask her to return. It was not illogical, he truly needed her help. He relaxed for the first time since she had left for Africa. Soon she would be here. It was enough - for now.

He slept for ten hours, only realizing when he awoke that he had been severely sleep deprived. He showered, shaved, combed his hair out neatly. He put on a fresh uniform, ate some fruit, some cheese, a small bread roll. He had been hungry - hungrier than he had been in some time. He calculated the time difference - it should be mid-morning where she was. He could call her. He seated himself before his com unit and keyed in her name.

**Nyota**

She was helping Mama scrub the kitchen. Her hair was braided and pinned up on her head, tied in a bandana. She wore old clothes, left in her closet when she departed for the Academy. The shorts and halter were a bit small now - she had grown a little since then and had more muscles from all the physical conditioning. She had bright pink waterproof gloves on that came almost to her elbows. She was not worried about it, there was no one here to see her but Mama. And then the com unit chimed.

She took a quick glance at the clock. No, it wasn't time for conversation. She hadn't thought so -- there was no telling who it was. She was going to let it chime, but Mama said to answer it. She crossed over to the desk on the other side of the room, leaned over and pressed the 'receive' key with one pink-clad finger. The screen filled with his image, formally clad in his dark gray uniform, neat and straight. Perfect.

"Cadet Uhura. I believe that you expressed an interest in participating in the tuning of the new message array processor. This activity will commence on Monday, if you can arrange transportation by then." He must have memorized this speech, because he did not pause until it was complete. Then one eyebrow rose as he took in her state of disarray. "Have I called at an inopportune time?"

Almost she laughed. But this was a formal call and she must treat it as such. "No, sir. I was just helping my mother clean the kitchen. I will arrange transportation immediately, sir. I will also need to call the housing officer and arrange to occupy my dorm room early."

"There is no need for you to concern yourself with that cadet. As I am here at the Academy it will be a simple matter for me to handle this for you. Were you satisfied with the quarters you previously occupied?"

"Oh, yes, sir. They were fine. Gaila and I had plenty of room there."

"Please inform me as soon as your travel plans are confirmed so that I may meet you at the airport. You will have a long flight. It is only logical that I make arrangements on this end to get you to the Academy grounds as quickly as possible."

_That makes no sense at all, Nyota_. _Cadets are NEVER met at the airport_. But she remembered all the times that he had 'escorted' her across the campus and realized that this was an extension of that. "I shall forward my itinerary to you as soon as it is confirmed, sir."

"I shall await it, cadet. I look forward to your capable assistance." He nodded, then broke off the connection from his end.

She hurried to the sink and removed the pink gloves, then back to the com unit to arrange her transportation. She could hardly wait!


	2. Chapter 2 :I'd Really Like to See You

Author's note: I am just overwhelmed with the response to the first chapter of this new story. Thank you, thank you, oh, thanks so very much :-) You keep responding like that and I'll keep writing - lots.

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**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 2 : I'd Really Like to See You Tonight**

**Spock**

He stood at the gate, waiting, hands clasped behind his back. The plane had landed, he could see it there, beyond the walkway. Soon she would walk down that aisle, through that gate and back into his sight. He could wait. However, he _was_ impatient. He would have preferred to walk down the walkway, onto the plane, down the aisle until he found her. This was extremely illogical and he would not act on it. But it was appealing, nonetheless.

There was action, movement, down the walkway, where it curved. He could not really see anything, but there was a substantial amount of noise there. One of the attendants at the podium turned, touched the controls on an auto-chair and directed it down the walkway. After a few minutes, it turned, carrying a very old human, followed by several people with medical supplies. After that group cleared, he saw several men in coveralls, doing something to the walkway.

At last passengers began to filter down the walkway. Some carried luggage. A few carried small children, fussy from the flight. Around him he heard people exclaiming as they caught sight of the passenger they were waiting for. She had not yet appeared.

More passengers, some in groups, others alone. At times the walkway was very crowded. Then it would almost completely empty out. When this happened, he became _anxious_. Where was she?

And then, between the heads of two men, he caught a glimpse of her. Straight, tall, composed. Dressed in her red uniform - that he had not expected. She strode down the walkway, duffle bag in hand, looking straight ahead. She had not seen him yet. He could look at her.

She had her hair up in its normal style, constrained on top of her head and falling loose down her back. He wondered how it would look loose about her face. She did not appear to be stressed, the flight must have been uneventful. She was impeccably groomed, as usual.

He let out a sigh, so small most would not even have noticed it. She was here - life would return to its normal cadence. It was _very_ acceptable.

Her head lifted, her eyes caught his. That blinding smile transformed her face. She tried to get around the two men in front of her, but they had spaced themselves so that there was no room to pass. He could see the lines of frustration form on her face. By sheer force of will he kept his face composed, his body still. She would be here in a few minutes. He could wait.

She came to a stop in front of him, standing so close, perhaps too close. He did not chastise her, he simply stared into her lovely face.

"Ha'tha ti'lu, zhel-lan".

She greets him, formally. Therefore he must reply in kind. "Ha'tha ti'lu, ne-lan". This is not what he wishes to say to her, but it is correct. He is pleased with her.

He reaches down and takes her duffle bag from her hand. She does not resist. With a small nod in the direction they are to take, he begins to walk down the corridor towards the exit. She walks beside him, straight and tall, composed, elegant, beautiful.

They exit the terminal building and take the airport transport to the Academy hanger. He crosses to the small shuttle he has reserved, keys the lock and enters, stowing her duffle in the cargo net. She enters and turns to pull the hatch shut behind her. He settles down in the pilot's chair, fastens his safety webbing. She hesitates a moment. He has a surprise for her. "Have you ever piloted a shuttle, Cadet?"

"No, sir."

"Then come and sit in the navigator's chair." He smiles to himself. He will provide her with a new experience.

She seats herself, fastens the wide webbing. Her eyes are dilated. Her heartbeat is elevated. His idea was indeed excellent.

**Nyota**

The flight from Africa has been reasonably quiet, but has seemed to last for days. She sits impatiently, waiting for the walkway to be attached, for the announcement that they can exit the plane. He will be there waiting. She is not sure _why_ she is so excited about this, but she definitely is.

At last people began to trickle off the plane. When the man sitting in the aisle seat finally moves forward, she can scoot across and stand to retrieve her duffle bag from the overhead. Then she joins the line of people shuffling slowly down the aisle and off the plane.

She is stuck behind two men who had spaced themselves so that she cannot get around them. They dawdle slowly down the aisle. She wants to scream at them, but she composes herself. She is in uniform, a representative of StarFleet, she will be controlled.

The angle of the walkway to the waiting area changes slightly and she sees him, standing there, tall, elegant, dressed in his dark grey uniform. She still cannot get around the stupid men in front of her. Forced to pace herself slowly, she drinks in the sight of him. He still looks tired. He has obviously continued to push himself. She will have to ensure that he paces himself better, now that she is here to watch over him. _Where did that thought come from?_

Finally she stands in front of him. He just stands there looking at her, his eyes deep pools. _What does she see there?_ Something she has trouble translating. She greets him in his own language, formally, as befits their surroundings, their uniforms. "Ha'tha ti'lu, zhel-lan".

"Ha'tha ti'lu, ne-lan". It is so wonderful to hear his voice again, with no static, no hollowness from the com unit speakers.

He takes her duffle and knowing it is futile to object, she allows him. When they arrive at the Academy hanger, he leads her to a small shuttle. There is no pilot. She is momentarily confused. Then he seats himself in the pilot's seat. She had not known he was a pilot. She hesitates, where does he wish her to sit? But then he tells her and quickly she seats herself and buckles up. She has not been in the seats at the front of a shuttle before. It is exciting to watch out the large window as they lift from the ground and glide out of the hangar.

The speaker crackles and the airport ground control is hailing them. She takes the control unit earpiece from its socket on the console before her and adjusts it in her ear - this is a familiar action, one she has performed often in the labs, in simulations. One long finger points to information displayed on a screen before him and she relays it to ground control. She receives information back from them, keys it in, transfers it to his displays. This is so like a simulation, yet not. They work together effortlessly. It is quite exhilarating.

Soon they are high above the airport, curving out of the flight paths, towards the academy. But when they have cleared the airport area, he changes direction and heads out over the ocean. Where is he going? After they have traveled for perhaps ten minutes, he turns to her. "Take the auxiliary control. Get the feel of it."

She lays her hands on the instruments, feels how they respond as he maneuvers the small craft. She is not aware of the broad smile on her face.

Then he surprises her. "I will now transfer control to you. Concentrate on keeping the craft level."

She has not expected this. It surprises her and she almost loses the controls, but recovers and straightens the craft out from the small dip that it made. For several minutes she is in control, the shuttle flying silently above the rolling waves. It is quite wonderful.

"Now we need to turn about. Do not move the controls too fast, you want to make a gentle curve. It helps if you tilt the shuttle slightly." He guides her through it, giving gentle directions. She tries to do exactly what he tells her too. It is _fascinating_.

Too soon they approach the coastline again and he transfers the control back to himself. She sits beside him as the Academy comes into view, wishing the flight could have been longer. This was more fun than anything she had done all summer!

The Academy air controller breaks into her absorption with the flight, with him beside her, and she answers, giving their ids and the purpose of the flight. They are given permission to land in the shuttle hanger, which opens before them. He sets the shuttle lightly on the ground and begins to shut down the controls. Swiftly she closes down the panel before her, taking the control unit from her ear and inserting it back into its socket.

He rises, retrieves her duffle, opens the hatch and steps out. She follows him. They walk across the campus to the familiar building. After a few quiet minutes, they begin to converse, but she is not sure what the topic is. It doesn't really matter. They come to her door and he types in some codes, then indicates that she should enter her own code. When she does, the door slides open and she is home. He carries her duffle in and sets it on her bed, then turns to her, standing straight and tall, his hands clasped behind his back in the position she knows so well.

"It is Monday, Cadet, and although it is too late in the afternoon to commence suus mahna training this week, I shall expect you for meditation this evening."

It is not a question, although it is not quite a statement, either. There is something hovering in the air between them. "Yes, sir, I would like that very much." Ah, the corners of his lips quirk up, he is smiling back.

He hesitates. There is something he wants, but perhaps she will feel that it is inappropriate. He steels himself - all he can do is offer, he cannot know whether she will accept or not. "Cadet, as the mess hall is not well staffed yet, perhaps... Perhaps you would dine with me tonight in my quarters before we meditate? It will not be a large meal.." His voice fades. Perhaps he has stated it incorrectly? "Nyota, it would be quite acceptable to have you join me." Now he holds his breath, waiting for her answer.

"Thank you, Spock, that would be very nice. What time shall I come?"

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Ha'tha ti'lu --- Good Morning

ne-lan --- cadet

zhel-lan --- Commander


	3. Chapter 3 : Got to Get You Into My LIfe

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 3 : Got to Get You Into My Life**

**Spock**

He has that odd feeling again - _nervous_. He is not sure why. Nyota has been in his quarters several times before and he did not feel this way. Everything is clean and neat. He is clean and neat. He has changed from his uniform into loose cotton pants and a long-sleeved pullover. He has selected a book of poetry that he does not think she has seen and it is laying on the low table in front of his couch. He has washed and peeled the vegetables that he plans to stir-fry and has all the other ingredients set out neatly on the counter. The tofu is draining. He has a bottle of that white wine she liked chilling in the fridge. He has no reason to be _nervous_. But it seems that he is. This is highly illogical.

He opens the cupboard above the work surface and takes out two plates, two wine glasses. He sets them on the table. He opens the drawer below the cupboard and chooses two forks and two serving spoons. He sets these on top of the plates. He opens another drawer and riffles through the contents, choosing two burnt orange placemats with matching napkins, the ones he purchased when his mother was here last. He lays these on the table also.

In the hall he hears the familiar footsteps. The door slides open and she is here, smiling at him. She is wearing some sort of short tight pants that end just below her knees and a soft blouse with loose sleeves that curves low enough to show her delicate collarbones. She is enchanting. She crosses to him, looks up.

"What can I do to help?"

He had not realized that she would want to help. He cocks his head, considering. His kitchen is small, but perhaps there is room for two to work there. "Do you know how to prepare rice?"

"Of course I do. What kind of rice is it?"

Now he is puzzled. "There are different kinds of rice? Is the method of preparation different?"

"Oh yes. Arborio rice is cooked very differently from Chinese sticky rice. And then there's brown rice. And wild rice - which isn't really rice at all. And there are many different cultures that use rice and have different cooking methods. What are you making?" She is looking at the vegetables and other ingredients laid out. "Oh, stir fry. I love stir fry. Okay, I'll cook the rice - where is it?"

He opens the small pantry, locates the bag of rice and passes it to her. She is looking in the lower cupboard next to the cooking surface and brings out the pan he usually cooks rice in. She also brings out the colander. While he watches, she measures out water and sets it to boil, then measures out the rice and pours it into the colander over the sink and rinses it. He realizes that he is not doing anything except watch her and retrieves his small knife and begins to slice the vegetables. When she has the lid on the rice pan, she moves the bowl containing the draining tofu into the sink and begins to squeeze the remaining moisture out. She rinses the tofu, pats it dry, and sets it on a small plate which she has gotten out of the cupboard. She sets the plate next to his cutting board, ready for him to cut it into pieces.

She carefully dries her hands on the towel hanging beside the sink and crosses to the table and begins to set it, placing the placemats on opposite sides of the table. Then she turns to him and asks if she may play some music. Curious, he tells her to choose anything she likes. After a few minutes, one of his favorite pieces of classical music sounds softly from the speakers. He is quite pleased to discover that she likes this piece.

She comes back into the kitchen and checks the rice, turning off the heat and setting the pan at the back of the cooking surface, with the lid tilted just slightly to allow some of the steam to escape. Next she bends down to look at the pans in the lower cupboard again and finds his large curved skillet. She sets it on the cooking surface and tips in a small amount of oil, tilting the skillet to coat the bottom. Then she turns on the heat. While the oil is heating, she searches through his drawer, finding the wooden spatula. He is very interested to discover how similar their habits are. He has almost everything chopped now. He has put each ingredient in its own bowl and now he lines them up in the order they are to go in the skillet. Seeing what he is doing, she smiles at him. When the oil is hot enough, she takes the first bowl and carefully slides the contents into the skillet, stirring with the wooden spatula. When he has finished chopping the tofu and put that bowl last in the line, he begins to measure out the seasonings and intersperses them into the line of bowls. As she adds things to the skillet, she sets the empty bowls on the opposite side of the cooking surface. When he has finished measuring and put all the bottles and jars away, he comes back to where she stands. She offers him the spatula. He hesitates, then realizes that she wants to tend to the rice, so he finishes stirring in the last few ingredients. By then, she has the rice turned out into a serving bowl and is setting it on the table. She brings him another, larger serving bowl to turn the veggies and tofu into and carries it to the table while he gets the wine out of the fridge and opens it, bringing the bottle to the table. As he sits at the table, he realizes just how smoothly they have worked together, just as they did earlier in the day in the shuttle.

They sit and eat. While they are eating, they talk. He is vaguely aware that they speak in several different languages. It is extremely pleasant. At some point, she gets up from the table for a moment to change the music disk. Again, it is one of his favorites. The evening is progressing very favorably. He is content.

After they finish eating, she carries the dishes to the kitchen, fills the sink with warm water and begins to wash the dishes while he is putting the left-overs in the fridge. He finds a clean towel and dries them and puts them all back in the cupboards. When she has washed all the dishes, she wipes down the counter tops and the cooking surface, then the table where they ate. He is most pleased with her cleanliness and efficiency.

When she is finished with the cleaning up, she turns to him. "Shall I change into my meditation clothes that I forgot and left here all summer now?" She is smiling. He thinks that she intended to leave them here, and he is very glad that she did.

"Before we meditate, I have a book of poetry that I wish to share with you, if you are interested." He indicates the book on the table in front of the couch.

She crosses to it, picks it up. "Oh, I've never read this one. Yes, please, let us read some of it. Shall we sit at the table again?"

She is waiting for his answer. He does not wish to sit at the table. "I thought.. Perhaps.. We could sit on the couch." He cautiously awaits her response. She walks around the low table and seats herself at the far end of the couch. He sits in his normal place, next to the gooseneck lamp. She hands the book to him and lifts her left leg up, bending it and tucking her left foot under her right knee. She leans forward slightly, waiting for him to begin reading. It is extremely acceptable.

After he has read the first poem, they discuss its merits. They debate over possible word choices, discuss the rhyme, wonder whether the topic is clearly related to the title of the poem. Then he chooses another poem to read to her. After he has chosen four poems, he hands the book to her and asks her to choose. She leafs through the pages, finding one that catches her eye and begins to read. He enjoys hearing her musical voice and almost forgets to concentrate on the content of the poem. After she has chosen four poems, she closes the book and hands it to him, smiling. Then she gets up and goes to change her clothes.

They arrange themselves on the floor pillows, he lights the incense, and they begin to meditate. It is the best, deepest meditation that he has experienced since the last time she sat here beside him. This is completely illogical, but it is nevertheless true.

After they finish their meditation, she changes her clothes again. When she goes to slip on her shoes, he puts his on as well. "Nyota, I shall accompany you back to your quarters." She smiles. She is happy, he can tell. It has been a most comfortable and enjoyable evening.

When he returns to his quarters, he sleeps for four hours, deeply and restfully. He is content. Nyota is where she belongs and his life has become enjoyable again. He is not sure when it became necessary that life was _enjoyable, _but it is a true fact that it is.

**Nyota**

She stands in front of her closet, the clothes she has just unpacked hanging there. The remainder of her luggage will arrive in a day or two. So she must choose something from what she was able to cram into her duffle bag. There is really not much to choose from. Finally she takes the dull gold pants from the closet and puts them on. Then the white blouse with the tiny gold stripes. Those two garments look good together. She slips sandals on her feet. She takes her hair down, brushes it again, puts it back up, then slips small gold hoops in her ears. She is ready.

She walks across the campus the short distance to the building where he lives. There is no one else on the walkways, which feels very strange. She enters his building, climbs the stairs to his floor, walks down the hall. She wonders whether his door is still coded for her. She reaches out and lays her fingers on the touch pad, which lights up, scanning her fingerprints. When her identify is confirmed, the door slides open.

He is in the kitchen, surrounded by vegetables. She crosses to him and asks to help. He has to think about this, it seems he did not expect it. But he seems to find it acceptable. She enjoys helping him cook and finds that they work well together in the small space, much like they did at the shuttle controls. The only problem she has is remembering not to touch him. Several times she catches herself with a hand only a few centimeters from his body. _Vulcans do NOT like to be touched, Nyota!_

He has an excellent collection of music. With his permission, she selects one of her favorites. It appears to be one he enjoys as well. She finds that she is enjoying the evening very much. This is beginning to feel like a date, silly as that sounds.

While they eat, they speak of many things. He asks what she has been doing since leaving the campus. Without thinking, she answers him in Kiswahili. He replies in the same language. She is touched. Has he learned this language just for her? The conversation continues, changing languages as the topic changes. She finds it extremely enjoyable and stimulating.

She is surprised but pleased when he shows her the book of poetry after they have cleaned up the kitchen. It is nice to sit on his couch and listen to him read, to discuss the poems together. When she goes to change into her meditation clothing, she is relaxed and happy. And even happier when he walks her back to her dorm.

When they reach her door, he stands looking down at her. She is not sure what is going to happen, much less what she _wants_ to happen, but he just looks at her, then tells her he will see her in the message array lab at 0800. She nods, taps the touch pad by her door, and enters her room. It has been a long day, but she is relaxed and happy. And looking forward to the next morning with great expectation.

***

Neither of them realize that this evening has established their new routine for Monday evenings, one that will last all year.


	4. Chapter 4 : He's so Shy

Author's note: Sorry people, but the UST is going to keep going on for a while! It's just not time yet.

___________

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 4 : He's So Shy**

**Nyota**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late August, 2257**

When the alarm sounds, she rises and showers, then dresses quickly. She crosses the campus to the mess hall, hoping that it will be open and she can get some breakfast. Although there are not many people there, it is open and she quickly fills a tray with a container of yoghurt, a blueberry muffin, and a large glass of orange juice. When she steps away from the serving line and turns toward the mostly empty tables, she sees familiar pointed ears only three tables in front of her. Suppressing a wide grin, she quickly crosses the intervening space and seats herself across from him. His lips quirk up.

"Good morning, Cadet. I am glad to see you seeking proper nutrition."

If she didn't know better, she would say that he was actually smiling at her. "Good morning, Commander. I expect that we will be busy all morning so I thought that I would be sure to get breakfast. I wouldn't want my stomach grumbling at you." She opened her yoghurt and began to spoon it out.

There was a very peculiar expression on his face. She was not sure what it meant. She has learned to interpret many of the subtle expressions that flit momentarily across his face, but this one she does not know. "Did I say something wrong?" The spoon halts halfway to her mouth.

"I would not force you to work if you lacked sustenance, cadet. I am not that harsh..." His voice fades off at the look of surprise and contrition on her face.

"Oh, sorry, I was just teasing. I forgot how literally you take things that people say."

His face clears, he nods slightly, and continues to eat his own breakfast, which appears to be soup. Soup is an odd breakfast. Finally she can resist no longer. "Sir, do you usually eat soup for breakfast? I mean, for humans that would be a very odd breakfast."

He raises one eyebrow, and it is time for _his_ spoon to stop halfway to his mouth. "Why is soup considered an odd breakfast? It is very nutritious. In the winter the heat helps to maintain proper body temperature. Since it is already liquid, it is easily digested, providing quick energy." At the sight of her poorly concealed grin, he stops. "Have I said something funny?"

"I was just enjoying your explanation. It was very ... thorough. Very logical." _Spock definitely has a bad case of male explanatory disease._

Now he is definitely 'smiling' at her, his lips quirked up at the corners, his eyebrows slightly elevated. "Thank you, cadet. I do try to be logical."

She hides her growing amusement by raising her glass and drinking a large amount of juice. By the time she has finished her yoghurt and muffin, he has finished his soup. They rise, deposit their trays in the recycle slot and leave the mess hall, headed for the lab containing the new message array processor.

**Spock**

While he is dressing he realizes that he has an opportunity to see her earlier than 0800. She will not have any food at all in her newly opened dorm room. He changes his breakfast plans and heads for the mess hall. He looks through the mostly unappetizing choices and finds that, for some unaccountable reason, the menu this morning includes broccoli cheese soup. He immediately orders a large bowl of the soup and carries it to a table well away from the other few diners. He will not share her company with anyone else this morning.

He has only consumed a small portion of his soup when he hears the quick cadence of her footsteps behind him only a few seconds before he smells her pleasant scent. The corners of his mouth quirk up in pleasure. He has chosen this morning's actions well.

She comes around the side of the table he is sitting at and sits down opposite him. He offers her a polite greeting. "Good morning, Cadet. I am glad to see you seeking proper nutrition."

She makes a very strange statement. Does she think that he would not allow her to find nourishment if she were truly hungry? He hastens to inform her that this is not the case, but she replies that she is 'teasing' him. _Teasing_? He ponders the possible meanings of this statement. She is not making fun of him. Nor is she trying to provoke him. She is not doing anything with her hair. The only definition left is that she is tempting him sexually. _ This cannot possibly be correct. Can it?_ In confusion, he ducks his head and begins to eat his soup again. He must think about this. But he gets no chance to think before she begins to questions him about what he is eating. He is quick to explain his choice and then she gives him a very great compliment. He is quite pleased with her.

***

When they get to the message array lab, he lays his palm flat on the touch pad, then keys in his code, then another code. "Please lay your palm flat on the touch pad, hold it there for three seconds, then key in your personal code."

She does exactly as directed. He can observe her carefully counting the time. He enters the code that will cause her to have unlimited access to the lab, then the termination code. The touch pad blinks several times, then the door slides open.

He watches her as they enter the lab. She has only seen the small components that were built in this room. She has not seen the finished array, nor the consoles which they will use. She walked about the room, her hands clasped behind her back, examining everything. When she has made a complete circuit, she turns to him, eyes alight and begins to ask excited questions. He is most happy to provide answers. It is a pleasant way to begin the morning.

**Nyota**

Actually being in the message array lab is just wonderful. Excitedly she wonders about the room, looking at everything. It is all so shiny and new, everything in its place, not even any dust anywhere. She can hardly wait to get started. She turns around to see him standing there watching her look at the lab. _Why is he just standing there? He must be waiting for her to do something. What would that be? Ah, he wants her to ask questions. Well she can certainly do that. _

She spends almost an hour asking him questions and listening carefully to his answers. Then he sits down at the main console and indicates the chair beside him. She sits down and watches as he shows her how to activate the console. This is not much different than some of the other consoles she is familiar with. They go through checklists, testing the different components of the array. Before she realizes it, her stomach reminds her loudly that it is lunchtime. He turns to look at her, one eyebrow raised. "Lunchtime, Cadet?"

She cannot help laughing. They shut down the console, lock the lab, and go to the mess hall.

***

After lunch, they continue applying power to the circuits of the array, one section at a time. Eventually, they find a problem. Soon they are laying on the floor under one of the wiring harnesses, carefully pulling out trays of components so that they can check the connections. She holds the hand-flash and directs it where he tells her, handing him delicate probes as he calls for them. It is extremely tedious work, but very interesting. Laying so close to him on the floor is also very interesting. The space is so small that she has to be very careful not to brush against him.

**Spock**

When they find a broken circuit, he is irritated. He had hoped that there would not be any. Of course, that was illogical. As he had not constructed all of the units himself, there were bound to be some which malfunctioned. He was greatly impressed with her ability to shine the light of the small hand-flash exactly where he needed it and to choose the proper instruments to hand him. And he found laying so close to her in the confined space very _interesting_.

***

With some startlement he realized that it was well past the time when they should have closed up the lab for the day. They had worked so well together that the passage of time had not been noticed. As he began to pack up the array of tools they had spread about, he realized that he did not wish to leave her company. How could he extend their time together without appearing inappropriate? But of course, there was no problem. Again it was a matter of food. "Cadet, I have kept you busy past the time that the mess hall is open."

"Is it that late? It doesn't seem that late."

"The mess hall is still running on shortened hours because of the limited number of people eating there at present."

"Oh, I had not realized that. Well. That may make supper hard to find." She actually seemed to be talking to herself and not to him. She was continuing to shut down the consoles, powering them off one by one, in the correct sequence.

He had no acceptable reason to invite her to his quarters tonight. Although that would have been quite nice. But there was no reason that occurred to him to stop him from escorting her to a cafe. After all, it had been his fault that she had missed the mess hall hours. "I am responsible for having caused you to miss the mess hall hours, therefore it is my duty to see that you received adequate nourishment this evening. I believe there are a number of cafes on the streets surrounding the campus where we might dine, if you have no objection."

She raised her eyes from the console where she was working, looking at him closely. After 58.2 seconds, she spoke. "That would be very nice, sir." She continued shutting down the console while he finished straightening the remainder of the lab.

They left the lab and started down one of the walkways while he thought about where they should go. There was a nice Indian restaurant close and he remembered that she had liked the food at the Indian restaurant in Oxford. So when they came to a branch in the path, he indicated which direction they should go in. It was a very pleasant night for walking. It was quite acceptable to be walking across the campus with her again. He had missed it. Even though that was quite illogical.

They were almost to the restaurant when he realized that they were not conversing. He was searching for a topic, when she began to talk. He was glad to follow her conversational lead.

**Nyota**

The walk across the campus was a bit odd. He did not speak. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable, so eventually she decided to ask him a question. He answered it quite pleasantly, then asked one himself. _Maybe he just hadn't known what to say to start the conversation off_.

The reached the small restaurant they he had selected and she found, to her delight, that it was Indian food. In hardly any time at all, the table was full of serving dishes and they were filling their plates.

"Cadet" He started, but she quickly interrupted him.

"Please, we are off campus and our shift is over. Can you not call me Nyota now?" She knew she was being _very_ forward. She watched him carefully, and saw the minute relaxation of muscles in his face. _Okay, she had done the right thing_.

"Nyota." Her name sounded so lovely when he said it. "I hope you are not upset that I did not order any meat dishes. I did feel that there was sufficient protein in these dishes that it would not be necessary for you to have meat tonight."

"Oh, I don't mind at all. I am used to eating vegetarian dishes. My Dada is a vegetarian, and two of my sisters. Mama often cooks vegetarian meals for the whole family."

**Spock**

He is astounded. He had not known this - but then there are many things about her family that he does not know. But he tucks this information away - it does explain how familiar she was with the preparation of tofu. And it means that there will be no need to bring meat into his quarters just for her, something he had considered with some trepidation.

They talked as they ate - once they had gotten started, the conversation seemed to maintain itself without pause. After the meal, they headed back towards the campus, still talking. For some reason, he found himself taking the longest possible route to the building where her quarters were. She did not complain.

At length, he found himself standing at the door to her building. There did not seem to be any way to extend the evening any further. But then one thing did occur to him. "You were not on the track this morning, Nyota. Do you intend to run tomorrow?"

"Oh, yes, I just didn't get around fast enough this morning - still on Africa time, I'm afraid. But I will definitely run in the morning." She gave him one of her brilliant smiles and turned to enter her quarters. He watched until she was safely inside before turning to go the short distance to his own quarters.

***

In the morning he has circled the track 14 times before she appears. Once again he has that odd desire to slow down and run at her pace. But he dismisses it as illogical and continues to run at his normal pace. But he does say "Good morning, Nyota" as he passes her. And hears her lovely laugh at his back. This is quite acceptable.

***

That evening they dine at a Chinese restaurant on the far side of the campus.

Thursday evening they try Thai food.

Friday she shows him a Japanese restaurant he was not familiar with.

Saturday he is unaccountable restless. He eats alone, in his quarters. Later he cannot remember what it was that he had eaten. He wonders where she ate. Eating alone is no longer acceptable.


	5. Chapter 5 : Lost in Your Eyes

Author's Note: Okay, some accidental touching starts now :-) Are you happy, folks?

____________

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 5 : Lost in Your Eyes**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Last week of August, 2257**

It is Sunday afternoon. He is still restless. He has scientific journals he could read, but he cannot seem to focus. After reading the same paragraph four times, he sets the PADD aside. He stalks into the kitchen, rummages through the cupboards, finds a partial jar of peanut butter and pulls a spoon out of the drawer. Pacing around his living room, he eats peanut butter and thinks.

At length, something occurs to him. He sits in front of his com unit, reaches for the keypad, then reconsiders. He leaves the peanut butter on the table and goes into the bedroom, looks at himself in the mirror on the door. He is wearing loose cotton pants and a tee shirt. They are not rumpled. His hair is neatly combed. He goes back to the com unit and enters her code.

**Nyota**

She is flopped on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Gaila will not be here for another week. There is no one to talk to. She could go to the library and find something to read. She could go pull her schedule and see where she has to be when. She could do her laundry. Or she could just lay here and be bored.

Her com unit chimes. There is a message. There is only one person it could be from. She jumps up and quickly looks in the mirror on the bathroom door. Okay, she doesn't look too bad - and everything is covered that should be covered, even if her attire is more skimpy than usual. She crosses to the com unit and accepts the call.

**Spock**

"Good afternoon, Cadet. I hope I am not interrupting your weekend rest." His eyes widen slightly as he takes in her appearance. That is _not_ regulation attire.

"No, not at all sir. How can I help you?"

He cannot say what he really wishes. He has carefully considered what to say. "Tomorrow is Monday. Normally on Monday afternoons we have physical conditioning. However, since classes will not start for another week, our schedule is not normal. I should like to continue with the tuning of the message array in the morning. I believe that we are going to have it completely functional by the end of the week so that regular monitoring sessions can start at the beginning of the semester. Unfortunately, the array lab is on the same side of the campus as the gymnasium, while your quarters are on the opposite side. I assume that you have not been to the gym yet to secure a locker."

She nods her agreement. She appears to be curious.

He continues. "If it is acceptable to you, you could bring your physical conditioning clothing with you in the morning, so that we can go straight from the lab to the gymnasium."

She nods again. "That is an excellent suggestion, sir. I will do so." She pauses, hesitates. There is something else she wants to say.

He waits to see what it is.

"Last Monday evening you were kind enough to prepare dinner for me before we meditated. I was wondering... Maybe... If you would allow me to reciprocate." She looks at him, waiting for his response.

He cocks his head. _She wishes to cook for me in my quarters. Interesting_. "I would find that acceptable." He pauses, considers. "Nyota, I would be very pleased if you would do so." He is rewarded with one of her blinding smiles. _Yes, that had been the correct response_.

"Then after physical conditioning, I will need to do some shopping. There is a nice grocery quite near there."

"Yes, I am acquainted with it. We shall go there, then, after physical conditioning. I shall see you on the track in the morning." When she smiled and nodded at him, he closed the connection. He crossed to the couch, picked up the journal he had dropped earlier and began to read and eat his peanut butter, calm again.

**Nyota**

She makes a list, considers, changes a few things. Then she activates her com unit. When her mother answers, she requests certain recipes. When they come, she transfers them to a small PADD. Referring to the recipes, she makes a shopping list. She is no longer bored.

***

She manages to get to the track just before he does the next morning, so that she sees him enter at the end as she is coming around the curve. She observes his head swivel, sweeping the track. _He's looking to see whether I'm here yet_. That was the only thing he could be doing. She is not sure how she feels about that - it is a strange feeling.

He comes around the track, approaching her from the rear. This morning he greets her in Kiswahili. When he circles back around, she responds. They continue to run, alone on the track, but he is completing almost two laps to her one.

***

When she carries her tray from the serving line into the dining area, he is not there. Well, he does have his own kitchen, she cannot expect to find him here every morning. She carries her tray to an empty table and sits down, begins to eat her scrambled eggs and toast. She has barely begun when he sits down opposite her. She smiles happily.

***

By lunch time they have completed checking out almost three-quarters of the array components. After a quick break for a salad lunch, they go back to the lab and work for another hour and half before closing up and heading for the gym. She is eager to practice suus mahna again.

When she comes out of the locker room, he is already on the mat at the far side and when he sees her coming, he activates the music player. She bounces quickly across the room and positions herself in the waiting stance. _They are going to dance duets!_

**Spock**

He is unexpectedly detained in his quarters by a com call from the linguistics department head and does not arrive at the mess hall until she is already leaving the end of the serving line. Quickly he selects hot cooked cereal and fruit and goes to join her. He is relieved to see her smile when he sits down.

•••

Once again this morning they wind up on the floor trying to reach a failed component. This time the space is even smaller. They are laying on their sides, facing each other. The component they need to repair is above their heads, partially hidden inside the frame. She tries to hold the hand-flash so that he can see to remove the connectors, but it is very difficult to get the correct angle. She heaves an exasperated sigh and contorts her body, inadvertently brushing against him. He does not think she even notices, but he feels the trail of fire along his skin where her arm touched him.

***

When she comes bouncing along the floor of the gym onto the pad where he waits, he is gratified to see how eager she is to perform the duets. He had been right to bring the music player. He had guessed right again. He was becoming more confident about this. Whatever _this_ was.

They danced. Her skill had not deteriorated over the summer. He was pleased. Then they worked on the second part of the third kata. She was doing well. He was ready to teach her something else new.

"Cadet, you have learned a large portion of the basic moves. The next stage of training will involve learning how to put more effort into your moves. In order to damage an opponent, it is necessary to exert the correct amount of effort at the correct time. If insufficient effort is expended, the blow will not have sufficient force to do any damage. If the effort is expended at the wrong time, the blow may not even connect, or may not do any damage." She was nodding, she understood.

"I have observed you in various physical activities and am quite satisfied with the muscular development of your legs." _ What was that expression on her face_? He was not certain. "However, your arms are not as well developed and I feel that you need to expend some effort in that area. Have you ever done any weight training?"

"No, sir, I have not. Nor has it been suggested before."

"I have found that human males seem to assume that females must be inferior in physical qualities. This is illogical. With proper training, females can develop sufficient power in their arm muscles. If you wish to perform adequately in suus mahna, you must develop those muscles." He cocked his head and watched her.

"I accept your analysis, sir, and am ready to begin."

He turned and crossed to the weights in the far corner. Searching the racks, he found what he was looking for, picked them up and handed them to her. "These are one kilo dumbbells. You will start with these."

She took them from him, holding one in each hand. Her grip was not correct. In order to assure that she was holding the dumbbells correctly, he would have to touch her hands with his hands. He took a deep breath and tried his best to shut off all possible transference. Starting with her right hand, he delicately adjusted her grip, touching her with as few fingers as possible. Even shut down as far as possible, he was still aware of her - her emotions flowing through his fingertips into him. _This was far more difficult that he had anticipated_. Thankfully, she quickly adjusted her grip and he was able to release her hands.

Back to the racks he went and found what he wanted. He returned to her side with two much larger dumbbells and showed her the basic exercises he wished her to do. He stood beside her, going through the movements with her until he was sure that she was doing them correctly, then left her and began to move through his normal routine with the barbell that he had previously left set up next to the wall. This would be the last week he could leave it set up.

He positioned himself so that he could watch her, to be sure that she did not move incorrectly and injure herself. She did surprisingly well, not tiring until he was almost finished. He sent her to start her laps, knowing that it would take her longer than him to swim the required number of laps.

**Nyota**

When he began to move her fingers on the bar of the dumbbell, she felt _something_ - like little electric shocks, tingling - everywhere his fingers touched her. _What was that_? She did not show that she felt anything as he seemed to be uncomfortable already and she didn't want to make it any worse. But her fingers felt so _warm_ where he touched them. And why did she have the feeling that he _wanted_ to touch her fingers? This was strange.

***

She wasn't half way through with her laps when she felt him dive into the pool. He swam so much faster than she did that he finished and vaulted out of the pool just as she was lifting her head out as she finished her last lap. She placed her hands on the lip of the pool, wishing she had enough strength in her arms to vault out the way he did. It looked so graceful ... and sexy. Although she was sure that he had no idea that anyone would look at it like that. He was standing there on the edge of the pool, looking down at her. _What was he thinking?_ He certainly seemed to be having some sort of inner conflict. Just as she thought perhaps he might say something, he turned and stalked off to the men's locker room. _Well, he could at least have helped me out of the pool!_

_***_

When she had dried off and dressed, she realized that they had not said where they would meet each other. Well, heck. The only other time that they had left the gym together, he had said to wait for him on the bench near the pool, so that was where she would go. She exited the women's locker to see him standing next to that same bench. Okay, they had both had the same idea then. At the sound of her footsteps, he turned towards her and crossed to meet her. They headed for the exit, then down the pathway towards the edge of the campus, near where the large grocery was.

"Might I inquire as to what you intend to buy at the grocery?" There was absolutely no expression whatsoever on his face.

"Chickpeas, cracked wheat, lots of parsley, lemons, tomatoes, garlic, sesame paste, flour, onions, eggplant." As her list grew longer, she began to see a look on his face that she thought might be confusion. Or maybe it was just curiosity. But it was definitely no longer totally blank. "Do you have a blender?"

"I do have an immersion blender. The kind that is used to make milkshakes. Not a large one that stands on the counter. Is this something that you need?"

"Well, it would have made it easier. But I can manage without it."

**Spock**

He watched her face become thoughtful. She truly needed this device, but was not going to say so. When they entered the store, he excused himself when she drew out her list and began to add things to a cart. He crossed to the other side of the store and began to read information off boxes. When he had made his choice, he went into the long corridor that paralleled the back of the store and listened. Ah, she was _there_. He strode off towards her location.

She was crossing the last item off her list when he walked up to her and deposited a large box in the cart. She looked up in confusion. "Spock, you don't have to buy a blender just for tonight."

"Am I to take it that this will be the only occasion on which you will wish to cook in my kitchen?" He gazed into her eyes, watching her reaction closely.

Her gaze unfocused, just a little. She was quiet. Then her gaze sharpened again and she returned his direct look. "I didn't say that."

"That is not an answer to the question I asked."

"I could conceivably find other occasions on which I would desire to cook in your kitchen." She was still looking straight into his eyes.

"Then you will find other occasions besides tonight on which a blender would be useful." It was not quite a question, although he did raise one eyebrow.

"I guess that's right."

"Then I will purchase it."

"Okay." She was still looking at him, something in her eyes that he couldn't quite figure out.

"Have you selected everything that you need?"

"Yes. All done."

He reached over, took the handle of the cart, and propelled it to the nearest checkout counter.

"Spock! I'm going to buy that stuff!"

He looked at her. "No."

She looked at him with her mouth open. "But.. but."

"No." She would not cause a scene. They were in uniform. She would be proper. He had no cause to worry.

Beside him she stood still while the items were scanned and he proffered his id chip for the purchase to be recorded. He took the bags, arranged them neatly for carrying, picked them up and strode out of the store. She followed behind him.

They walked down the pathway, back across the campus towards the building where his quarters were. She did not speak until they were almost to his building.

"Spock."

"Yes, Nyota."

"I really did not intend for you to pay for the groceries."

"I know that."

"Then why..." Her voice trailed off.

"As I am an officer and you are a cadet, my income is much higher than yours." She was quiet again. Perhaps she would accept this with no further questions?

She did not say anything else until they were in his kitchen, unpacking the groceries. Then she turned to him, eyes flashing. "That's not the real reason and I know it. But I'll let you get away with it THIS TIME. Don't you EVER lie to me!" She turned back to the groceries, leaving him standing there stunned.

***

She assigned tasks to him. He did exactly as she asked of him, watching as she prepared foods that he was totally unfamiliar with. When the table was set and the food was ready, he opened the bottle of wine chilling in the fridge and set it on the table also.

Before she could sit down at the table, he reached out one hand and lightly touched her sleeve. "Nyota."

She looked him directly in the eyes for the first time since she had uttered that ultimatum in the kitchen. "Yes, Spock."

"Vulcans do not lie. I will never lie to you - about anything at all. Never." He looked deeply into her eyes, trying to make her understand.

She looked back at him. She was thinking hard, he could see hints of emotions flitting across her face. "But you didn't tell me the whole truth, did you?"

He sighed loud enough that she could hear it. "No, I did not. But what I _did_ say was the truth."

"Okay." She paused, watching him. "That's okay then. Since you admit it. Just beware that I don't like it."

"I do understand."

They sat at the table. He looked at the food. Interesting food that he had no names for. "Will you tell me what the names of these dishes are?"

"This salad with the cracked wheat and all the parsley, and the onions and tomatoes -- that's tabouli. And the eggplant puree that I put all the garlic and the sesame paste in - - that's baba ghanoush. And the chickpea puree is hummus. And these are pita breads. Remember how they puffed up on the skillet? They're hollow inside, you can poke a hole in one side and fill them up with stuff, or you can cut them in half and fill them up that way. They make a good holder for falafel."

At his confused look, she continued. "Well, if you haven't had those, then we can make them another time, because I think you'll like them. You eat the tabouli with your fork. The purees you eat by tearing off a piece of pita and scooping them up. Like this. " She put a spoonful of each on her plate and took two pita breads, laying them on the edge of her plate. Then she tore one into quarters and scooped up some hummus and nibbled on the edge.

He copied her actions. Interesting flavors. The pita was still warm, as those were the last thing that they had made. He tried the baba ghanoush next. Even better. He dipped up a forkful of tabouli. He tasted it. A palate of flavors burst on his tongue. Different textures from the grain and the vegetables. What an interesting dish. He set his fork down on his plate and looked across the table at her.

"Don't you like it?"

"I like it all very much. You have selected an excellent meal. I am very grateful. Will you please tell me what culture this food comes from? I need to expand my knowledge."

"I will be glad to, but you can continue to eat while I do." She was smiling. She was no longer angry at him. This was much more acceptable.

**Nyota**

While they cleared the table, put the leftovers in the fridge, and washed the dishes, she wondered whether Spock had another book of poetry in mind for tonight. That had been so nice last week. And she was not disappointed. There on the low table before the couch was a large book. She quickly sat down and picked it up. On each page there was a poem, printed in sweeping calligraphy, with a beautiful photograph illustrating it. It was a wonderful book.

Spock sat down at the end of the couch. Well, he wasn't going to be able to see the pages if they were at opposite ends of the couch - and the light was at his end. She moved over closer to him, being careful not to get close enough that she might accidentally touch him. She laid the open book down so that the left half was on his right leg and the right half was on her left leg. The book was large enough that that left several centimeters between their legs.

First she picked a poem and read it aloud. Then they discussed it and the photograph which had been chosen to illustrate it. Then he picked one and read it. Before she knew it, they had finished the entire book. It had been very interesting. She went into the bedroom, retrieved her meditation clothes from his dresser drawer, and went into his bathroom to change. When she came out, she discovered that he had changed also. He was already lighting the incense. _He sure did that fast. I thought he would wait until after I came out to change. Interesting._

She settled down on the floor pillow. He sat beside her. He led her through the relaxation exercise and they both settled into a calm, relaxed state of meditation. After some indeterminate amount of time, he began to bring her gently back to full awareness. She felt so relaxed. She stretched and twisted, waking her body back up, then rose and went back into the bathroom to change again. When she came into the living room to put her boots back on, he was waiting there for her, in his uniform again also, to walk her back to her dorm. For some reason, she felt very protected. And happy.


	6. Chapter 6: I Only Have Eyes For You

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 6 : I Only Have Eyes For You**

**Nyota**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**First week of September 2257**

It is Saturday. Gaila will arrive today, there was a message waiting for her when she got back to the room yesterday. It's going to be so much fun catching up with her. In the meantime, she had better get up and get organized. She still had to pull her schedule, go get books, reserve her library carrell - she had a busy day planned.

She pulled on shorts and tee, her running shoes, and jogged off to the track. The day was sunny and warm, just lovely. He was already circling the track, so she got to anticipate his approach behind her. For some reason it gave her little goosebumps, hearing him pound up the track towards her. Almost as though he were running towards _her_. _Now where had that come from?_

The greeting this morning was in the first language they had practiced together. So many nice memories came flooding back at the sound of it. She finished her run floating on happiness.

***

Showered, dressed, off to the mess hall for breakfast. Then she would go to the library and reserve her favorite carrell for the semester. While there, she would pull her schedule and book list. Then off to the bookstore for her books and some other supplies. Then carry everything back to her dorm. She was so lost in thought that she paid little attention to where she was going. As cadets were just starting to return to the campus, the pathways were still mostly empty and she had gotten used to just walking along, lost in thought, not really paying attention. This time it resulted in her walking full tilt into someone. Someone _very_ warm. She stopped, in shock, and looked up into his eyes.

"Oh, sorry, I was thinking and didn't watch where I was going." She became conscious of the fact that she was still standing right next to him, bodies touching in several places. He was not moving at all. She gave a little jump and took a half step backwards. _Did he just lean forward as I moved backwards? Don't be silly, Nyota_.

She stood there, mouth slightly open, not exactly sure what had just happened. Definitely not sure what to do next. Nervous, she bit her lip. He was just _looking_ at her. What did she do now? "Um, I was headed to the mess hall for breakfast."

Finally he relaxed. She could see the fine movement of muscles in his face, neck, shoulders. Such small little movements. If you didn't watch closely, they were invisible. No wonder people thought he was immobile.

"That was the direction in which I was headed, also, Cadet. I shall accompany you."

Not a question, but a definite statement of fact. _Okay_. So they would eat breakfast together again today. She had no problem with that.

**Spock**

He stood on the pathway watching her approach. She did not seem to see him. She was striding along with her eyes unfocused. It appeared that she was following the pathway purely on memory, without paying any attention whatsoever to her surroundings. _Interesting_. _How would it feel to be the subject of that intense concentration? Illogical thought_. She was much closer now, but still did not seem to be slowing. If she continued without pause, she would - and at that thought, she collided with him. He felt the impact of her body all along his - her face high against his chest, her shoulder against his upper arm, her _breasts_! Her hip bone, hard, her muscular thigh against his, her kneecap - hard. He gasped. He put out his hands, almost grasping her arms before he stopped himself. She raised her eyes to his, so startled. They stood there, _touching_. He was flooded with emotions that he was not familiar with, did not know what to do with.

"Oh, sorry, I was thinking and didn't watch where I was going."

She moved back, away from him, breaking the contact of their bodies against each other. Without being totally conscious of what he was doing, his body followed hers, wanting to retain that contact. Not quite soon enough, he caught himself and stopped his forward motion. She was looking into his eyes, hers large and not quiet focused. She bit her lip. His eyes followed the line of white teeth lightly clenched on that soft pink lip. _Fascinating_. _How would it feel to have those teeth on him_? His thoughts were _totally_ illogical.

"Um, I was headed to the mess hall for breakfast."

He had not missed her then. He would be able to sit across from her one more morning before her roommate arrived and claimed her time and attention. Tension fled. "That was the direction in which I was headed, also, Cadet. I shall accompany you."

***

They sat across from one another, their breakfast trays empty, still talking. He knew that she must have things to do today, but he could not force himself to rise and let her go about her errands. Searching for a way to continue their conversation a bit longer, he realized that they had not yet discussed her duties as his aide. They had been so focused on completing the tuning of the message array processor that they had had little time for anything else. "Cadet, Monday is the first day of the fall semester."

She tilted her head just a bit, nodded slightly.

"I shall expect you in my office at 0745. Class starts promptly at 0800. Your responsibility at this point will be to take roll, monitor class participation, collect assignments, grade them, pass them to me for review, record the grades, and return the assignments to the students at the next class period. On days when I have no class to teach, you need not report until 0800. I shall expect you every morning. On Tuesday evenings, when you have completed your own assignments in the Linguistics lab, if you have any time available, I would appreciate your assistance with students having problems. Do you understand these duties?" He watched the play of emotions flitting across her mobile face.

"I believe that your explanation was quite clear, Commander. If I have any questions, I will ask them as they occur to me, if that is acceptable to you."

She had gone all formal on him again and it was his fault. However, it was probably safer to be so correct when they were in uniform and in public. He nodded his acceptance. _Safer?_

"And now I must go. I need to get to the library and get my carrell reserved before someone swipes it. And I still haven't pulled my schedule or gotten my books. I will see you on the track in the morning." A hint of a smile.

"Yes, Cadet, that you shall."

**Nyota**

Sitting in her favorite carrell, she pulled her PADD out of her carrybag and finally pulled up her class schedule. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons - ALL afternoon. Well, that was about what she had expected. Okay, now to make a complete schedule for the coming semester.

Monday morning 0800 - 1000 in Spock's class, monitoring, 1000 - 1200 in Spock's office, grading papers. Monday afternoon 1400 - 1600 suus mahna training and weight training followed by laps. And then in the evening, meditation practice. _She was going to be with him almost all day_.

Tuesday morning 0800 - 1000 in Spock's office grading papers or whatever he needed her to do. Tuesday morning 1000 - 1200 in Spock's class, monitoring. Tuesday afternoon 1300 - 1700 classes. Tuesday evening 1900 - 2200 in the Linguistics lab.

Wednesday morning 0800 - 1000 in Spock's class, monitoring, 1000 - 1200 in Spock's office, grading papers. Wednesday afternoon 1300 - 1500 class. Wednesday evening 1900 - 2200 Chorale practice.

Thursday morning 0800 - 1000 in Spock's office grading papers or whatever he needed her to do. Tuesday morning 1000 - 1200 in Spock's class, monitoring. Thursday afternoon 1300 - 1700 classes. Thursday evening 1800 - 2400 in the message array lab, monitoring.

Friday morning 0800 - 1200 in Spock's office again, probably helping him to prepare for the next week's lectures. Friday afternoon 1300 - 1700 here in the library in this carrell, doing homework and research.

GAH! She wasn't going to have time to catch her breath all week! And she was going to have to spend the entire weekend reading, just to stay caught up.

She shut down her PADD and gathered everything up, stuffing it all in her carrybag. Time to go get books.

***

She headed back to her dorm room, her carrybag heavy with books. She was very glad that she didn't have to carry all these books around with her every day. She supposed eventually that all the books would be electronic, but for some reason, many of the Academy's texts were still printed out as bound books. And they were heavy. She struggled along, trying to figure out the best way to carry the heavy load. She held the carrybag by the strap, thinking to loop it over her head and support the weight with her shoulder. Instead, she felt the weight disappear as the bag was lifted from her grasp.

"I shall assist you with this, Cadet." His familiar voice came from just behind her. _Well, that was unexpected_.

***

When they reached her dorm, he handed her carrybag back to her, nodded, and turned and walked away. _He could at least have said goodbye_. She sighed a bit, then tapped the touchplate at her door. The door slid open and revealed a total mess. Gaila was here! She flew into the room and was grabbed in a wild hug and twirled around in a circle.

"Oh, girl, it's so GOOD to see you again! I missed you so this summer! Come and look at all the new clothes I brought! And you have to tell me EVERYTHING you've been doing!"

She was swept up in Gaila's enthusiasm and two young women did not stop talking at high speed for several hours as they compared their summer activities, their new clothes, their fall class schedules, and everything else that came to mind. She helped Gaila unpack and organize her belongings, knowing that within a day or two they would strewn all over her half of the room. When they crossed the campus to the mess hall, they were still talking animatedly, waving their hands about and giggling at each other. She never noticed the tall Vulcan instructor standing under the trees near the pathway, watching her.

***

**Monday, 0530**

When the alarm sounded she struggled awake. She had stayed up too late talking with Gaila, again. She splashed cold water on her face to help her wake up. Throwing on the same shorts and tee she had worn on Saturday morning, she jogged off to the track. He was already speeding around when she got there. She loved to watch him run, he was so full of grace of motion. He passed her without a greeting and she felt surprise and shock. He _always_ greeted her. Another pass, still no greeting. She almost felt like crying. The third time he passed her, his name came to her lips unbidden. "Spock!"

She was sure that she saw his ear tips twitch, his shoulders bunch. Twice more he passed her in silence. The next time around, as he approached her from behind, she heard him speak in quick, short breaths "You did not run yesterday."

Oh. And she had told him that she would see him on the track. Oh, my. As he approached again, she managed to force out the words "Gaila kept me up all night talking." before he was out of earshot.

Twice more he passed her. Then as he approached, she heard "Good morning, Nyota." A big grin split her face. When he passed again, she replied.

***

By the time she was out of the shower, Gaila was beginning to stir. She poked her, saying that if she wanted to go to breakfast, she better get up. Fussing and protesting, Gaila trailed off to the bathroom while she dried her hair and put it up. She managed to get them both out of the dorm room and headed to the mess hall in time to grab a quick breakfast before heading for the Linguistics building.

She headed down the hall to Spock's office with butterflies in her stomach. This morning would be different. Today he would be her commanding officer. She approached the door to the office and entered. The office space was different. Spock's desk had been moved a bit and there was a new, smaller desk on the other side of the office. That one must be hers. "Commander Spock, sir, Cadet Uhura reporting."

He glanced up from the papers he was reading, his face perfectly blank. "Good morning, Cadet. Your promptness is appreciated. The desk on the other side of the room is to be yours. Please do not cover it with inappropriate items. There is a PADD on the desk which contains the rosters for my classes. Please carry it to class with you to note class participation." His gaze dropped back to the papers on his desk.

_Well. VERY formal this morning, are we. Okay. I can do that, too_. She crossed to the other desk, seated herself and picked up the PADD laying there. She scanned the directory to see what was on it. There was a small file, labeled simply "Read". What on earth was that? She tapped the file name, displaying the contents.

"_I feel that it is essential that we maintain the proper level of formality when we are in situations where I am obviously your superior officer. Please do not take this to mean in any way that the regard I feel for you has changed_." There was no signature, but none was needed. Of course, he was right. But it still felt cold in the office. _Regard_? Exactly what did that mean?

**Spock**

She did not run on Sunday morning. She had explicitly stated that she would see him on the track. Could she be ill? She had not looked ill yesterday evening. It was not good for her to ignore necessary exercise. He had difficulty maintaining his speed as he circled the track. He was inexplicably irritated and unfocused.

Several times during the day that followed he reflected on what had happened that morning. She had made a commitment and she had not honored it. Each time he thought about it, he became more agitated. _This was not logical. He must focus his energy elsewhere_.

****

Monday morning when he reached the track she was not there. He had circled the track 9 times when she appeared. He found that he was still thinking about the fact that she had not been here yesterday when she had explicitly stated that she would be. He did not greet her when he passed her. Again he circled the track without greeting her. On the third pass, he heard her call out as he passed. He flinched, but kept running. Her voice did not have its normal vibrancy. It had sounded ... strained. Unhappy. Why was that? He circled twice more, thinking. Was it possible that she did not realize what she had done? On the next pass, he struggled with words. "You did not run yesterday."

On the next pass he heard the reason. He circled the track again, twice, thinking. When they passed him on the pathway to the mess hall, they had been talking excitedly, waving their arms around. When they returned, headed for the dorm, they had still been talking. Was it truly possible that they had talked all night? Had she been so exhausted that she had not been able to run? Had he misjudged? On the next pass, he greeted her. On the following pass, he heard her voice again, happy.

***

When he was seated at his desk, waiting for her to arrive, he thought to take a PADD from his desk, delete all the files on it - all old backups - and download his class rosters for her. About to set it on her new desk, he had a thought and quickly added another small file. She would find it immediately, he had no question about that. Surely he had explained things correctly. She would understand.


	7. Chapter 7: You Light Up My Life

Author's Note: Spock is NOT a stalker! Remember this man is half Vulcan - he has instincts and compulsions that cannot be interpreted in the same way they would be when performed by a human male. Vulcans are very territorial and possessive. Also, he feels a very strong compulsion to safeguard and protect her, even though at this point, he does recognize it as such, nor even understand fully _why_ he is acting the way he is.

**_____________**

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 7 : You Light Up My Life**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**First Week of September, 2257**

It is very strange to have Nyota sitting in the back of the classroom instead of front and center. He keeps wanting to tell her to move into her usual seat. That would not do. He must overcome this temptation.

However, it is very nice to have her sitting here when he thought that he would not see her this year while he was teaching. Whenever the questions from the students become too irritating, too indicative of the fact that they have not, in fact, read the material they are supposed to have read, then he can look towards the back of the classroom and see her lovely face. This has a very calming effect on him.

He notes that she is keeping meticulous notes about which students are participating in the class discussion. This is a great help to him, as he does not have to commit these student actions to memory while still answering questions or lecturing. At the end of the class period, he introduces her to the students and directs them to turn all assignments in to her. He notices that several of the students go to her and ask questions. He is not sure why this is, he will ask her when they get back to his - no _their_ - office.

After five minutes of standing alone at the front of the classroom while she answers questions in the back of the room, he is impatient. He wants her to accompany him back to the office, but she still has several students blocking her way. She is talking to them, smiling at them. His displeasure is irrational and illogical, but it is there nevertheless. She looks up and sees him standing there, then dismisses the students with a few words and comes to join him. "Sorry, sir, they just had some questions about a few things you said."

"And why did they just not ask me their questions?"

She bit her lip, sighed, "I think you intimidate them, sir."

He considers her answer. "But I did not intimidate you, Cadet. I do remember the first day of class last year, when you approached me after class to ask questions." He cocks his head slightly, and looks directly into her eyes.

"No, sir, you did not and do not intimidate me." That is all that she says, yet it seems to hold some hidden meaning. _Why did she phrase it just that way? He cannot solve this puzzle now. _He turns and leaves the classroom, returns to the office. She follows, half a pace behind him. He does not realize why this feels so _comfortable_, until he realizes that this is the way his mother accompanies his father when they walk in public. _Strange_.

When they reach his office, he seats himself behind his desk and continues to read the papers he left there before class. Nyota goes to the mini-replicator and presses buttons. She comes back across the small office, retrieves the tea pot off his desk and goes back across the office again. When the chime sounds, she removes the hot water and pours it into the tea pot. The fragrant odor of tea drifts across the room. Another chime sounds and her arm reaches past his shoulder, retrieving his tea mug, then sets the full mug back in the same spot. "Thank you, Cadet." He is quite pleased at her thoughtfulness, and does not mind that her little finger has grazed his hand when she set the mug down. But the contact has caused a slight tingle that he has no explanation for. It was actually quite pleasant.

She pours tea for herself and sits at her desk. After a bit, his comlink chimes with an incoming message. When he answers it, he finds a file containing the student interaction notes for this morning's class. She is very efficient. This is expected, but pleasing nevertheless. Having an aide is turning out to be much better than he had thought. Of course, this is possibly because of the particular cadet that he has chosen for this duty. He continues with his reading, sipping on his tea.

At 1200 she gathers up her carrybag and leaves the office, which seems unaccountably empty after she is gone.

**Nyota**

After class was over, she was surrounded by students asking for clarification of the assignment. She explained it to them the same way Spock had explained it to her the year before. She tries to get them to go across the room to Spock, but they are not inclined to do so. This might be a problem. Eventually, she realizes that Spock is waiting for her and is becoming impatient. She is not sure _how_ she knows that he is impatient, but she _does_ know. She tells the students that they must leave now or be late to their next classes and they disburse. She crosses the classroom to him and sees the small signs that tell her that he is now less tense. They walk down the hall to his office and she keeps just slightly behind him, letting him lead. She had studied Vulcan culture and knows this be more comfortable for him in this setting. She is clearly indicating to him that she accepts him as her superior.

When they get to the office, Spock sits behind his desk and begins to read again. She decides to make tea. When she brings his mug over to his desk and sits it down, the smallest finger of her hand grazes the back of his hand. A small tingle, almost like an electrical spark, passes between them. It was so brief that she did not even have time to react before it was over. _Odd_, she thought.

She seats herself at her new desk with her mug of tea and looks over the notes she made today. She organizes them into what she considers the proper order, saves the new file, and sends it to him. He reads the message but does not acknowledge her work. Oh, well, that _is_ what she's getting paid for.

She looks the rosters and syllabi during the remaining time until lunch, familiarizing herself with the slight changes he has made to the lesson plans. At 1200 she gathers up her carrybag and goes to the mess hall to meet Gaila for lunch. She does not wish to bother him when he is so absorbed in what he is reading, so she does not say anything to him when she leaves.

She and Gaila meet other friends in the mess hall and sit and talk and laugh until it is time for her to leave for the gym. After the quite time spent in the office this morning, for some reason their enthusiasm seems overloud.

She changes into her workout gear and crosses the gym. There is no music player today, so she knows they will be working on the movements to the second part of the third kata. Probably there will be no more duets until he is satisfied with her knowledge of this difficult series of movements. When he determines that she has progressed sufficiently for one day, he leads her back to the dumbbells again and gives her specific instructions on how many times to perform each exercise. She concentrates on maintaining the correct tension so that she will derive the most benefit from the exercises and pretends that she does not know that he is watching her while he performs his own weight workout. When she has completed her exercise, she takes the dumbbells to the rack and stows them in the correct place, then turns. He has not told her how many laps to swim. It's probably the same as last week, but if she assumes that, he will have changed the number and be dissatisfied with her for assuming. Sighing softly, she turns to go ask.

She stands out of the way, waiting until he completes his set, and then moves into his sight. He raises one eyebrow at her. "Commander, you didn't tell me how many laps to swim, sir." _Is that laughter in his eyes? Not possible._

"Please swim the same number of laps that you swam last week, Cadet."

"Thank you, sir." She turns and crosses to the locker room, changes, swims laps. When she finishes her last lap and raises her head from the water, he is kneeling at the edge of the pool.

"I shall expect you for dinner at 1700, Nyota." His voice is so low that no one else could possibly have heard it, even if there had been anyone else in the room. He stands and dives neatly into the pool.

**Spock**

He wants to be sure that she understands that their time together in his quarters is not the same as their time together in class, in his office, in the gym. That there is a definite distinction between the two - between when he is her superior officer and when he is not. Although, correctly speaking, he is _always_ her superior officer. But he feels it necessary that there be this distinction, that she does feel that the way he reacts to her _here_ is not the same as the way he reacts to her _there_. He is not entirely sure _why_ he wants this, but he definitely _does_. It is not logical, but it is true.

He stands in front of his closet, trying to decide which of his casual clothes he will wear. He could just change into his meditation pants and shirt, but for some reason this does not satisfy him. He looks through the clothing again and selects a pair of jeans that he has worn for several years. They are soft and comfortable. He adds a knit shirt that pulls over his head. It is his favorite shade of deep, soft blue. Surely these clothes will convey the correct impression.

He crosses to his kitchen and begins to pull ingredients out and organize them on the work surface. When she enters his quarters fifteen minutes later, she goes first to the music player and selects a disc. Then she comes into the kitchen to help prepare the food. She is wearing very tight pants, he thinks they are called leggings, that are so dark a blue that they are almost black. She is wearing a _very_ tight tank top in the same color. Over that she is wearing a loose blouse of some very sheer fabric, pale blue with large white flowers on it, that comes down past the tops of her legs. She is wearing a silver chain as a belt. As she moves about the kitchen, the light shines through the blouse as if it were in fact invisible. He can see the outline of her slender arms, her perfectly formed small breasts, molded by the tight tank. He can find no fault with her clothing, he appreciates it very much. He is very glad that he has chosen his own clothing with such care.

***

After they have eaten and cleaned up the kitchen, Nyota changes the music disc again, putting on soft music that will not interfere with their poetry discussion. He has two small books laid out tonight that he wishes to compare. They are written in two different languages, from two very different cultures, but there are many similarities between the poems. He thinks she will be fascinated by them. He sits in his customary place and she sits down where she sat last week. He is very pleased that she has not retreated to the opposite end of the couch again. It is very pleasant to have her sitting close enough that he can catch her scent as she moves her arms to turn the pages of the books. At times as she changes her position upon the couch, the neckline of her loose blouse falls forward and he can see the soft curves of the tops of her breasts above the top of the dark tank. He exerts strong controls over the sensations this causes in his body.

It is a very pleasant discussion. Sometimes they have contradictory opinions and must explain at length why. This is extremely interesting. He is almost unhappy when the books are laid aside as she goes to change into her meditation clothes. But he quickly follows as soon as she has closed the bathroom door and changes himself.

***

After their meditation, he quickly changes back while she is in the bathroom, and is ready to accompany her back to her dorm. They continue to discuss the poetry that they had read this evening, comparing it to that they read the week before. When they are at the entrance to her dorm, he asks her a question. "Nyota, last week you mentioned another food which is often eaten with the pita breads. Would it be possible for you to show me how to prepare this next week?"

She looks at him. There is an unusual expression on her face that he does not know how to interpret. After a short pause, she replies. "I will be glad to show you how to prepare falafel, but I will not allow you to pay for the ingredients. I will go shopping on my own."

He wants to protest, but he sees that spark of fire in her eyes and resists. He does _not_ wish to anger her again. He nods his acceptance and turns to go, then turns back. "I shall see you on the track in the morning, Nyota."

She smiles widely at him in agreement. It is very acceptable.


	8. Chapter 8 :I'll Have to Say I Love You

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 8 : I'll Have to Say I Love You in a Song**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid September, 2257**

He stood up from his desk, picked up the pile of student PADDs that he wished her to grade next, and carried them over to set them on her desk. As he was straightening up, the back of his hand brushed against her arm. _There is that strange tingling sensation again_. He does not understand what is causing it. Since she does not appear to have noticed anything, he does not comment on it either.

***

When she walks across the gymnasium towards him, he sees her eyes go to the bench, checking to see whether he has brought the music player with him today. It pleases him that she enjoys dancing the duets with him, but she has not learned the variation he is teaching her well enough for that yet. He must not let her enjoyment rush his assessment of her readiness. Even though it would please him to dance with her again.

****

It is his turn to cook. They seem to have established a pattern of alternation. He is not entirely sure that she realizes that he accepts this as a part of their _friendship (no, that cannot be the correct word - arrangement ? - no that is positively not the correct word - he does not know what the correct word is, although there must be one)_, so he must be sure to tell her before she leaves the pool. He has barely finished his weight training when he estimates that she will be finished with her laps. Without changing, he strides quickly into the pool room and catches her just as she is straightening up after climbing out of the pool. Her swim suit is plastered to her body, revealing all of its delightful curves. Water runs in rivulets down her arms and legs, dripping off onto the floor. He swallows, having much difficulty subduing his response to her. This _something_ that she causes is growing much stronger. She waits for him, there beside the pool. He stands next to her, looking down into her eyes. He finds it difficult to speak.

"Supper at 1700, right?" All he has to do is nod. He is grateful.

***

When he arrives back at his quarters, it is still too early to start meal preparations. He changes into the same jeans he has worn before, and a lightweight deep olive green V-neck sweater. He retrieves the book of poetry he has chosen for tonight and lays it on the table before the couch. Then he fetches the padded case containing his ka'athyra which has just been returned to him from the expert who has skillfully restrung it for him, and settles down on the couch to play. It has been too long since he has been able to enjoy this.

**Nyota**

She is grading papers again. It's only two weeks into the semester and already she is dreading the interminable papers. How has Spock managed this on top of all the other duties he has? She hears him rise from his desk, cross the short space across the room. He bends over slightly to set another stack of PADDs beside her. As he straightens up, the back of his hand brushes against the side of her arm. A slow sizzle accompanies his touch. The skin on her arm tingles where he touched it. What is causing this? It is not unpleasant, in fact, it is becoming much more pleasant each time it occurs, but it is _strange_. Since he does not seem to notice it, she says nothing. She has no wish to embarrass either of them.

****

She looks to see whether he has brought the music player and is disappointed to see that he has not, even though she knows she has not learned the kata that he is teaching her now nearly well enough to dance it as a duet. But she does enjoy the duets so much. She will work very hard to learn this variation so that the chance for a duet will come that much sooner.

***

She finishes her dumbbell work and goes to swim her laps. The water feels lovely on her sweaty body. She smoothly cuts her way through the water, the rhythm of her strokes dropping her almost into a meditative state, now that Spock has taught her how to achieve that. She climbs from the pool relaxed, clear-headed, tired but not fatigued. As she straightens up, Spock strides in from the gymnasium, crosses to her and stands looking down into her eyes, but saying nothing. She looks up at him, knowing he is trying to tell her something. And she must confirm something that has not been stated yet. "Supper at 1700, right?"

He nods at her, a quick look of relief in his eyes, then turns into the mens' locker room. She goes into the women's locker room, dries off, changes back into her uniform. Back across the campus she goes to her dorm.

Gaila is not there and her side of the room is in its customary mess. Nyota shakes her head. She sits down and removes her boots, then stands and shimmies out of her uniform. She picks her short robe up off the bed, slips it on and ties the sash around her waist. Setting down cross-legged on the bed, she spends the next hour re-reading the assignment for one of tomorrow's classes. Then she goes to the closet to select something to wear tonight. The weather is still warm, although it will be cooler later this evening when she returns to the dorm. Finally she decides on a brightly striped pair of cotton sarouelles and a black tee-shirt. She wraps a strand of brightly painted wooden beads around her hair where it is secured at the top of her head and hangs matching earrings in her ears. She is ready to leave when Gaila comes through the door and stops short when she sees her.

"Girl, you have a DATE!" Gaila grabs her and spins her around, looking her over. "Oh, you look so hot! Who is it, tell me, tell me."

Nyota laughs. "No date. No, I'm just going for my conversational practice."

Gaila looks at her in disbelief. "You're still doing that stuff this year? Girl, your schedule is so fully packed, you don't have time for that! And since when do you dress up like you're going on a date to go talk in weird languages." A strange look passes across her friend's face and she stops and looks hard at Nyota. "Oh, girl, no. You can't possibly be hung up on that cold-faced straight-laced Vulcan! Tell me it's not so. Please tell me." Although Gaila knows perfectly well that this is true, she still doesn't think that Nyota herself does. Maybe it is time to push at her friend just a little.

Nyota is flustered. She hadn't thought she was dressing up like she was getting ready for a date. On the other hand, she hadn't actually gone out on a date in so long that she wasn't sure she remembered how she had dressed the last time. There just had not been anyone that she really wanted to share her limited amount of free time with, besides Gaila. Going out to drink and dance and let off steam occasionally with Gaila and her other girlfriends had been sufficient. _Hung up on Spock? Surely not. _

"I just ... I didn't want to go over there in my uniform. I mean... He sees me in my uniform every day, and.. Well, I just wanted to be _different_." Now she's not sure what she actually wanted, why she took so much care with her appearance before heading to his quarters. _Hung up_?

Gaila stifles a giggle. Okay, she had planted a seed in that fertile brain. Now to let it germinate. "Well, that's certainly _different_ than your uniform, all right. Don't stay out any later than I would." She wiggles her eyebrows at her friend and gives her a wide grin as Nyota heads out the door.

Nyota walks down the pathway between the buildings, thinking. _Hung up? On Spock?_ Could that possibly be true? She is confused. She respects him. He is so intelligent, so calm, so self-assured. She wishes that she could be so self-confident. She is always full of doubts. And she certainly thinks he is handsome - as do almost all the other females and many of males on campus. From working closely with him over the past - _it's been a year?_ - she has come to watch for the subtle changes to his face that reveal his mood - changes which she knows most people do not see. And when he accidently touches her, there is that weird _tingly_ thing - what _is_ that? And when he does something so unexpected and so _protective_ - like warning off those people at the club in Oxford - she feels so warm and safe. What does that all add up to? She isn't sure, but now she is at his door and has no more time for such perplexing thoughts.

As she raises her hand to the touchplate beside the door, she hears soft music from inside. That doesn't sound like a recording. She taps the touch plate and quietly steps inside, slipping off her sandals by the door, and then just standing there, listening to the lovely sounds coming from the ka'athyra in Spock's hands. She hadn't known that he played. She hadn't seen the instrument in his quarters before. She almost holds her breath, listening.

He sits back against the couch, relaxed, his hands flowing over the strings, head bent, eyes closed, the long curving neck of the ka'athyra over his right shoulder, curved base fitted over his left thigh. The strings sigh, they chime, the long sonorous tones flow out into the room, filling it with sound that fills her up. It is the loveliest thing she had heard in a long time and she doesn't want it to end. He looks so peaceful, almost _happy_. She has not seen him this relaxed before. She stands so quiet, not wanting to intrude, to spoil his mood.

The long rolling chords still. He lays his hands flat on the strings to stop the reverberations. Without lifting his head or opening his eyes, he speaks. "You may come and sit on the couch, Nyota. I would like to continue playing just a bit more. It has been too long."

She slides softly onto the couch, down at the far end, so that she does not disturb him. She tucks her feet up and sits with her back to the arm of the couch, facing him. She puts her elbows on her knees and rests her chin on her hands, watching him, ready for him to play again. When she is completely still again, he raises his hands, curving the long fingers, and begins to caress the strings again. She watches those long slender fingers gently maneuvering the strings into bringing forth that lovely, delicate sound. _What would it be like to feel those fingers on her body_? _Whoa, Nyota! Where did that come from?_

The music soars, building until it breaks in a long, rolling, sigh that lasts so long, tapers off so gently, that it ends almost without notice. She cannot help herself, she sighs with it. It was so lovely. The corners of his mouth quirk up in what she now knows is his smile. His face is so soft tonight, there is no mask in place now.

His voice sounds, so softly. "I accept your appreciation, Nyota. Would you like to hear another?"

"Oh, yes, please."

**Spock**

He is still smiling at her. He cannot seem to stop himself. He can feel the warmth of her enjoyment across the small distance that separates them. Between the enjoyment of holding his instrument again after so many months and the wonder of being able to please her so much with something that he finds so pleasant, he is in a better mood than he has been in for some time. This is even better than the relief he felt when she walked off that plane and back into his presence, and _that_ was unlike anything that he had ever experienced before. He will play a very old piece for her, one which he doubts she has ever heard. But when he begins, he hears her intake of breath and knows that she recognizes the song. "Do you know the words?" He whispers to her. And she straightens up, fills her lungs with breath and begins to sing. Her voice is so lovely and pure and she pronounces the words so correctly, but with emotion in her voice, unlike the cool, controlled Vulcan singers he has heard perform this piece before. This must be the way that the song had been sung when it was new. Something rolls over him, filling him with elation, joy, feelings and emotions he has no name for. This is _right_. This is something that he did not know he was waiting for, something that he had no expectations for. Whatever it is, he absorbs it, treasures it, commits it to his memory so that he can come back when he has more time and study it, analyze it, determine _what _it is, _why_ it is.

When the song is over, he stills the strings again, opens his eyes, lifts his head and looks at her. She glows. Her face is soft, her eyes closed, her head tilted back a little, stretching her lovely neck. She is beautiful, so lovely that she takes his breath away.

Slowly her head tilts back down, her eyes open. "Oh, that was so lovely. So much better than singing to a recording. I never expected to be able to actually sing that _with_ someone. Thank you."

He does not know how to reply. He does not know whether he _can_ reply. He looks at her, wondering whether she can read what is in his eyes. Whether he _wants_ her to be able to read what he _feels_. Not entirely sure that he can trust himself with words, he finally speaks. "It is a very old song. I am somewhat surprised that you know it, but very glad that you do. I have never heard it performed so well."

If he thought that she had glowed before, he had been wrong. _Now_ she glows, almost incandescent with her pleasure at his complement. They sit for several minutes, just looking at each, caught up in the moment. Finally he drops his eyes from hers, picks up the case from the floor and carefully places the ka'athyra inside. He fastens the case and sets it back on the floor beside the end of the couch. For some reason he finds himself telling her what had happened to it. "The dampness here in San Francisco warped an inner support and the strings broke. I had to send it back to Vulcan to be repaired. It has taken many months. It was returned to me only today and this was the first chance I had had to play it."

"It's very beautiful and you play it so well. I'm glad you were playing when I arrived. I did enjoy it very much."

Now he feels _uncomfortable_. Although he has no compunction about giving complements where they are deserved, he has trouble accepting them himself, as he knows his actions always contain errors.

As though sensing his discomfort, she rises from the couch and turns to the kitchen. "What are we cooking tonight?"

He realizes that he has not laid out anything, rises quickly from the couch and goes into the kitchen to begin preparations for the evening meal.

****

All through the evening, as they cook, eat, read poetry, meditate, he is filled with that _feeling _of contentment, that feeling that everything is as it should be, that he is following the correct path. He is not sure where this feeling comes from, but it is definitely there and she is definitely a part of it. It is perhaps the most perfect evening of his life.

They walk towards her dorm in the soft darkness, the pathway lit occasionally by dim lights. No one else is on the pathways, it is just the two of them, walking along and talking quietly. They stop at the door of her building. He does not wish for this evening to end, but he cannot think of any way to prolong it. He suppresses an overwhelming desire to raise his hand and caress the side of her face. That would _not _be proper. He no long thinks it would be illogical.

She raises her eyes to his face and studies him. She heaves a small sigh. "Spock, I truly enjoyed hearing you play and I hope you will do it again when I am there." She smiles at him, all soft and open and _so_ appealing. "It's my turn to cook next week, isn't it?"

He nods, all he can trust himself to do.

She raises one hand, almost to shoulder height. It wavers in the air between them, then falls as she sighs again. "See you on the track in the morning." And she turns and goes inside.

He stands and waits until he is certain she is safe inside, then turns and returns to his quarters. His dreams that night are full of her.


	9. Chapter 9: I'm Happy Just to Dance

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 9 : I'm Happy Just to Dance With You**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early October, 2257**

He tapped the touchplate next to his office door. When the door slid open, he stood for a moment just looking into his office before he strode across and set his briefcase down. Somehow the new configuration of furniture in the office seemed so familiar, so right to him that he had had no trouble getting used to it. He had thought, last spring, that it would be difficult to share this small space, but it had not been. On the contrary, the mornings seemed to fly by. It was the afternoons, when she was not here, that dragged on. There were times, in the afternoon, when he would catch himself turning in his chair to say something to her, surprised that her chair was empty.

He looked at her desk. There was a framed picture of her family sitting on one back corner. There was a colorful, twisted shape of highly glazed pottery that set on the other back corner, filled with styluses, an expandable pointer, and other implements, stuck in hodge-podge. One drawer of the desk was slightly ajar, with the corner of a colorful scarf draped over the open edge. The seat of the chair was now covered with a plump, highly colored pillow, tied to the side of the back. What had been a bland wall last year was now a brightly colored scene. Although he did plainly remember telling her not to fill her space with inappropriate items, he would not have her remove anything that she had brought, nor change it in any way. It was a reflection of her that he found he enjoyed very much.

Hearing her footsteps in the hall, he sat down at his desk, opening his briefcase to take out the papers he had taken back to his quarters last night. She came briskly into the office, greeting him in her normal way, and sat down at her desk. He could smell her lovely scent. In a few minutes, they would leave the office and walk down the hall to the classroom, but for now he could sit here and enjoy being in her presence, quietly. It was an extremely acceptable way to start the week.

****

She sat in the back of the classroom, watching the students, taking notes. Later she would organize those notes and forward them to him, recording for him which students had been absent, which sleeping or talking, which asking questions. It was an enormous help. Although he did remember most of the students and their actions, it was still better to have it all recorded, all quickly accessible to him. When class was over, she would answer questions from students who he now knew would never have approached him with problems. The brighter students, the ones who loved the challenge of the class, would come to him, but the ones who struggled found her more open, more accessible, and came to her with their questions. He found that the average grade in his classes was elevated over previous years. Her presence was the only difference, therefore she was directly responsible. It was a benefit to the Academy. He could not resent the time she spent with these cadets, helping them. It would not be logical.

***

It was his turn to make the tea. When he set her mug upon her desk, he leaned over just a fraction too much, and his chest grazed her back, only for a brief moment. Even though there was no skin contact, he could feel the pressure of her against him. She tilted her head up and slightly back, so that their eyes met, and gave him a small, soft smile. Then she dropped her eyes back to the paper she was grading. He straightened completely, wishing for another excuse to bend over, to brush against her again. _This was not logical_. However, it was desired.

***

He set the music player on the bench next to the wall, leaving it where she would see it as she crossed the gym towards him. He was anticipating her excitement at seeing that today they would dance duets, and he was not disappointed. He had difficulty suppressing his own growing eagerness as she bounced across the floor, fairly flying into the waiting position as he thumbed the button that started the slow drum beat. They had six different combinations to dance now, it would last longer than ever before. At least he did not worry so much any more about everyone watching, they were no longer so exotic - they had been here in this spot, working together long enough that it was only when someone new entered the gym that they were the subject of intense scrutiny. He could just ignore it, as it posed no threat to her. He could focus on the movements of their bodies, sliding close, separating, turning together, away, arms moving together, apart, faces always turned to the other. It was the best part of the week. Perhaps he would bring the music player again next week.

***

They had finished their suus mahna session and were standing facing one another, perhaps a bit too close. When they made their low bows to each other, their foreheads barely grazed, only for a brief second. They did not acknowledge it, nor the tingling which passed between them.

****

He watched her with the dumbbells. She was moving more easily through the exercises now. Soon he would increase the weight she was using, perhaps next week. He was pleased with her progress. Her arm strength was increasing. She was performing admirably, as always.

***

She had already left the pool by the time he walked out of the men's locker room. He had missed her, missed seeing her in her swim suit, wet. It was illogical to feel disappointed. But he was.

***

They stood together in his kitchen. He was chopping vegetables into small cubes. She had washed the vegetables, peeled them, set them down near his cutting board. Now she was in the cupboard, pulling out small bowls for him to put the chopped vegetables into. She set the stack of bowls next to the cutting board on the other side. Moving around him to do so, she brushed against his back. He could feel her through the soft knit shirt he wore. Tonight she had on a closely fitting garment of softly glowing warm coral pink that covered her from chin to mid-thigh, clinging softly. Under that she was covered in those tightly fitting black leggings that she liked to wear. He had no complaints in seeing her in them. But as she brushed against him now, with only two layers of soft knit between them, he almost shivered at the sensations she caused.

She started the couscous, then turned to the cupboard and brought things out to sit on the counter. She was mixing herbs and spices in a small container. When she was finished, she raised the container to her nose and inhaled softly. She tilted her head, her eyes unfocused, then turned and held the container out to him. "What have I missed? It's just not quite right."

He inhaled the scent of the blended seasonings, the spicy scent filling his nose, his sinuses, the roof of his mouth. His mouth watered. This was an excellent blend. Why she thought something was missing, he did not know. "I believe that when it is combined with the vegetables and the oils you have chosen, it will be most pleasing."

"Ah, the oils, that's it. It needs the chili oil." Satisfied now, she tipped one of the small bowls of cubed vegetables into the container, sealed the lid, and shook it, coating the small cubes with the spicy mixture. Carefully she tipped the seasoned cubes back into the bowl, leaving the remainder of the seasonings behind, then picked up the next bowl and repeated the process. When all the vegetables were seasoned, she got out the large curved skillet and put it on the cooking surface to heat, measuring out small amounts of the different oils she had chosen, swirling them about in the bottom of the skillet, blending the flavors. When the oil was hot, she began to tip the vegetables into the skillet, stirring as she did so. Soon the spicy scent of the hot oils, spices, and vegetables filled the air. Supper was going to be delicious.

****

He had found an unusual book for them to discuss tonight. It was poetry, but there was also music. Some of the poems were set to music, others not, and there was some music for which there were no words. As soon as she opened the book, she demanded that he bring out his ka'athyra and play the music. So now he was seated at the end of couch, the long neck over his shoulder, the curved base supported by his thigh, while she held the book before him. She was sitting sideways, with her left leg bent, the foot under her right knee. She was leaning over slightly and holding the book before him, but out where he could focus on it and it would not interfere with his playing. He finished the piece, then looked at her. "Nyota, you must sing with me." She turned her face to his, so close, her eyes soft and happy. She smiled, such a lovely smile, it warmed him inside just to see the glow on her face. He began the song again, and her lovely voice floated in the air, singing the words of love written on the page. It was very acceptable. It was also acceptable that her left shin grazed the side of his right thigh as she leaned over to hold the book where he could see it.

***

They were meditating. As she unfolded herself from the floor at the end, her knee gently tapped against his. Only for a second. Although he had been able to meditate easily, he could still feel the tingling along his leg where hers had touched his while they sat on the couch. This new touch only intensified that tingling. It was not an unacceptable feeling.

**Nyota**

It was Tuesday. She must hurry from class in order to eat and have some time before she needed to be in the Linguists lab. Everything always seemed to be hurry, hurry, this year. She yearned for a chance to catch up, to just breathe for a while. Then she remembered how bored she had been in the summer. She sighed, nothing ever seemed to be exactly what you thought it would, what you had never seemed to be what you wanted when you wanted it.

***

She sat in the carrell in the Linguistics lab with the earbuds in. Her eyes were unfocused, her fingers flying across the keyboard, transcribing the voices flowing into her ears. She was only minimally conscious of the tall Vulcan watching her from the open door of his small office. But she _was_ aware. She had carefully selected the carrell she used this year so that it was clearly visible from where he sat. She hadn't been quite sure at the time she chose it why that was so necessary, but she known that it was. Now she realized that she wanted him watching her, wanted to know that he had an unobstructed view of her as she worked. And wanted the same view of him. When she raised her eyes from her work, he was the first thing she wanted to see. She was beginning to understand that what she felt was more than simple friendship. Well, _simple_ probably wasn't the right word to use in the same sentence with that tall, silent man, but nevertheless, the very idea that friendship was possible with him was something that most of the people she knew would have denied. She was almost finished with her own work and soon would raise the little flag at the top of her carrell that signaled that she was available for consultations. There would be students around her from that point until the lab closed. This time was hers. She could look at him whenever she wished, so she did. She even let her lips quirk up slightly, in unconscious imitation of his smile. When he saw this, he echoed it, one eyebrow raising slightly. It was almost a silent, private language, just between the two of them. It was very nice.

She finished her transcriptions, saved the files to her PADD, took the earbuds out. Then with a small sigh, she raised the little flag. Almost instantly, she was surrounded by students with questions. For the next hour, she was too busy to lift her eyes and look for him. It wasn't until time to close the lab that she heard his firm voice, telling students that they must close up their files and leave. Glad to be finished with the constant questions for tonight, she gathered her belongings up. They were the last two out of the lab, and without saying anything, he walked beside her. They left the building and started across the campus. It was so pleasant to walk with him warm beside her. She was always sorry when they reached her dorm and he walked on towards his own building.

***

Thursday evening she always had trouble finding enough time to eat before she must start her shift at the new message array. Tonight all she had had time for was an apple. As she sat there with the earbuds in, listening, her stomach began to growl. He cocked his head in her direction. Embarrassed, she tried to quell the empty grumbling. Of course, her body did not obey her. The grumbling came again, louder. Now he turned his face completely towards her and removed his earbuds. Maybe he would not be able to see that she was flushed, embarrassed. She removed her own earbuds and waited for him to chide her for not adequately providing herself with nourishment before starting her shift. Instead, she heard something totally unanticipated.

"Cadet, it has come to my attention that you have a very short period of time between your last class and the beginning of this shift. At times, apparently, you do not have sufficient time to visit the mess hall. Is this not correct?"

He was waiting for her response. Surely he would not change her shift! She licked her lips, nervous. "Commander, while it is true that the time interval is brief, it is due to my own inability to properly allocate my time that I do not always make it to the mess hall on Thursdays."

He looked at her intently. He seemed about to speak, then did not. Finally he turned back to the console before him, started to put the earbuds back in his ears, then stopped and turned back to her. "Cadet, it is my wish that you obtain sufficient nourishment. It is necessary for your continued excellent achievements. You will not function correctly if you do not eat correctly. Therefore, I must insist that you accompany me to some place where we may obtain nourishment following the conclusion of our shift." He was looking at her with that intent look of total concentration again, waiting for her response.

_Was he asking her out?_ That didn't really seem possible. The wording was a bit strange, but he had clearly indicated that they were both to go out and eat together - and that he would not consider anything but a positive answer. She bit her lower lip, thinking. His eyes strayed to her lip, back to her eyes. He was still waiting. There was_ something_ in his eyes, she couldn't quite figure out what it was. How could she phrase her answer so that it covered all the possible interpretations of his comment - because it hadn't been a question, but a statement of fact. "It would be acceptable." It seemed to be what he wanted to hear, because he turned back to the console, put his earbuds in and focused on the transmissions again.

***

When they left the message lab, it was very dark outside. And damp. It had rained while they were inside listening. The misty haze diffused the light from the lamps along the pathway, so that they walked in and out of swirls of fog, dimly lit. He bent his head down towards hers and spoke softly. "Where would you like to eat, Nyota?"

Suddenly shy, she looked back at him. This _was_ personal, then. "I will let you choose. You always choose nice places." His eyes changed a bit, darker. He nodded. They walked on down the pathway towards the edge of the campus. In a moment she realized that he had taken the path that led directly to the Indian restaurant that they had frequented before. It was late, that restaurant would only be open for another hour. Somehow she felt that the owner would be chasing them out.


	10. Chapter 10 : Good Day Sunshine

Author's note: They circle each other like moths to a candle, spiraling ever nearer. Spontaneous combustion is inevitable. But not quite yet :-)

____________

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 10 : Good Day Sunshine**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid October, 2257**

It is Thursday morning and they have half an hour until it is time to walk down the hall to the classroom. Perhaps time enough to make tea again. He starts to rise from his chair when Captain Pike walks in and seats himself in the chair on the other side of his desk. "Good morning, sir."

Nyota turns her head and sees who has come in. "Good morning, Captain Pike, sir. Would you like some tea?"

"Good morning to both of you. A cup of tea would be quite nice, thank you, Cadet."

Nyota rise from her chair and goes to the mini-replicator to make hot water. She retrieves the empty tea pot from his desk. Unfortunately, since Captain Pike is here, she is very careful not to touch him at all.

While she is busy making the tea, Captain Pike begins to speak. "I need to make a recruiting run back to the east coast tomorrow. You haven't come with me in a long time, so I think you should come along. There are a couple of computer geeks that I could use your help with."

He is not particularly eager to go. While he is searching for some remark he can make, Captain Pike continues. "And Cadet Uhura, your major is Xenolinguistics, is it not?"

"Yes, sir" she replies as she sets a cup of tea in front of the captain, and then brings him one as well. As she pours herself a cup, the captain continues.

"Well, there is a bright young linguist out there I'd really like to get. Why don't you come along too?"

"If you need me, sir, I would be glad to."

Suddenly he is very much interested in going. "What time do we need to be ready to leave? This is the evening that we are both in the message array lab until 0000."

Captain Pike thinks for a minute. "Well, I was planning on leaving at 0500, but that doesn't seem like it would work very well. But, we could leave right after you get out of the lab. You could sleep after we get checked in to our hotel out there. I'll even spring for food in the shuttle - I remember how hungry it gets on those late shifts." He beams at them. "Just come on over to the shuttle hanger after you shut up the lab. And don't forget to bring some casual clothes. There are a couple of nice watering holes at the college we're going to be at. Oh, and I plan to take a hike on Sunday before we start back. The fall foliage will be really magnificent about now. So bring hiking boots and jeans and a good jacket." He finished his tea and took his leave.

This weekend begins to look interesting.

***

At 1200, after answering the last few student questions, they come back to the office briefly. Nyota takes the PADD with her notes on it and drops it into her bag, saying she will organize the notes on the shuttle flight. Before she can leave the office, he turns to her. "Cadet, you will need to pack for this trip and I know that you have classes all afternoon. If it is necessary for you to be late to the message array lab this evening, it will be acceptable."

"Thank you, sir, it may indeed to necessary. But I will take as little extra time as necessary." She gathers up her carrybag and heads out. He knows she will be going to the mess hall to meet her roommate for a quick lunch before her afternoon classes. After she leaves, he locks up the office and returns to his quarters to pack. He wishes that it would be possible to carry her duffle across the campus for her, but knows that this will not be possible. He feels that she will be quite tired by the time they get to the hotel near the college where they will be recruiting.

**Nyota**

She practically ran to the mess hall, grabbing Gaila at the door and going through the food line as fast as possible, telling Gaila to just wait until they were seated to hear all about it. Gaila could tell that she was very excited about something.

"Captain Pike came into the office this morning about 0930 and asked the both of us to go on a recruiting trip back east! We leave straight after our message array shift tonight and don't get back until late Sunday. I'm so excited!"

Gaila was excited, too. "Wow, not many cadets get to go on those trips!" Then she thought for a moment. "Hey, when are you going to pack? You hardly have any free time on Thursdays. I could pack for you." She leered across the table at Nyota.

Nyota laughed out loud. "Oh, no, you don't! I would arrive there with fancy lingerie and nothing else in my duffle! I'll pack after I get out of class. Commander Spock said I could be a bit late reporting in to the lab."

"Okay, if you insist. But I still think you ought to take some fancy lingerie with you - it always comes in handy."

"Maybe for you, but not for me." She was still laughing.

***

After her classes were over, she hurried to the mess hall and grabbed a sandwich to go, which she carried back to her quarters, where she gulped it down while packing her bag. She put in a clean uniform, a pair of nice jeans, her hiking shoes, underwear and socks, a sleep tee, a couple of sweaters and a heavy shirt. She didn't know how cool it might be on the East Coast, so she put a knit cap and gloves in as well. She took her warm, thigh-length jacket and folded it in on top, then zipped the bag. At the last minute she remembered to tuck the PADD with her class notes into the middle of the bag, where it wouldn't get bumped. Then she realized that she had no shoes to wear to those 'watering holes' Captain Pike had mentioned. She could wear her jeans and a sweater, but needed shoes. She sorted through the bottom of her closet and found a pair of plain black flats and stuck them down the side of the bag and zipped it up again. Okay, she was packed. She picked up her duffle bag, hoisted the strap over her shoulder, and set off across the campus to the message array lab. She was only 15 minutes late.

***

She shouldered open the door to the lab and started across the floor towards her console. Spock turned his head at the sounds of her footsteps and rose quickly, striding across and lifting the strap of her duffle off her shoulder, taking the heavy load off her. "Oh, thanks, my shoulder was starting to feel that! That coat and the hiking boots are really heavy!"

Spock set her duffle in corner, next to his. He looked uncomfortable, although she couldn't imagine why. He turned to her. "I am sorry that you had to carry that weight so far. I could not come to assist you because it was necessary to keep the array manned."

She was astonished. She knew that her jaw must have dropped open. "I..I didn't expect you to come help me, sir."

He looked at her, something quite strange in his eyes. "I would have come to assist you if it had been possible, Nyota."

"Oh, well, I.. I do appreciate your coming to take it from me as soon as I got here." She rubbed her shoulder. "The strap was really digging into my shoulder."

Spock hesitated. He appeared to be trying to form words, but he did not say anything. He straightened up. One hand rose towards her, stopping at chest height. He looked straight into her eyes. Finally he spoke. "I..I do know a Vulcan technique for relaxing muscle spasms if you think it might help..." His voice trailed off.

She licked her lips. She wasn't entirely sure what the correct response might be here. But her shoulder _really_ hurt. "I..I think that might help, I mean.. It's pretty uncomfortable."

"Please turn around, Cadet. It will be necessary for you to remove your uniform jacket as well." _Did his voice sound strained?_

She turned away from him and undid the fastening down the front of her jacket and eased it off her arms, hissing a bit as it strained her shoulder. Immediately she felt warmth on her shoulder through her sweater. One of his hands was molded over the top of her shoulder, cupping it protectively, while the other hand grabbed her jacket from her slackening grip. He tossed her jacket onto her chair, then both hands were warm against her shoulder, kneading the sore muscles. Careful fingers applied pressure to selected points. It only took a moment for the pain to begin to subside. She relaxed as her shoulder began to feel more normal.

"Oh, thank you, Spock. That's so much better."

"Try to move your arm and shoulder now. See whether there is any pain." His voice was soft in her ear, just behind her.

She carefully rotated her shoulder, then moved her arm in several directions. "No, there isn't any more pain." She turned to face him, finding her face only centimeters from him. "Oh, sorry." She started to back up, only to find that he was still holding her shoulder.

He looked at her, his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. Then he released her shoulder, clasping his hands behind him in his normal stance. "I am happy to have been at your service." He looked at her for another moment, then turned and reseated himself at his console.

She walked over to her chair and started to put her jacket back on, but found it lifted from her hands.

"I do not think that you should rotate your shoulder that much just yet. Wait until we are ready to leave to put your jacket back on." He did not look at her, but at the console in front of him.

"Okay." She sat down and activated her console.

**Spock**

He could not imagine what had possessed him to do such a thing. To put his hands on her! She would be entirely within her rights to have him brought up on charges of sexual harassment. He almost shuddered. But she did not seem to have been in any way upset about it. In fact, she had thanked him. He considered all that happened again, then he went back over it all from the beginning a third time. She had shown no fear, no hesitation, nothing except total acceptance of his hands on her, helping to remove her pain. Perhaps she had not taken it in any unacceptable way? Did she not consider what had happened improper at all? He thought back again, going over her actions carefully. At no time had she flinched from his touch. She had not protested at all, nor complained. She had thanked him. Finally, he began to assess his own _feelings_ during what had happened. His hands trembled just slightly, remembering the feel of her. He had wanted desperately to relieve her pain. He had not had any prurient reason for his actions. He would need to meditate on these actions. For now he would put them out of mind. But then he remembers something else - he had addressed her as 'Nyota', not as 'Cadet Uhura' - and she had not corrected him. In fact, she had addressed him as Spock, with no honorific, in return.

****

Contrary to Captain Pike's statement, they will not be shutting up the lab, as it is manned around the clock. Their replacements will be here in a few minutes. Beside him, Nyota stretches, bending her body from the waist in different directions, then rises from her chair and goes to retrieve her jacket. Before she can strain her shoulder, he takes the weight of the padded jacket and holds it so that she can slide her arms in. She turns her head slightly to the side and grins at him, then seals the front of the jacket.

The door to the lab opens and there are the two cadets who will have the next shift. As one their eyes go to the two duffle bags against the wall. Nyota turns to the young woman and excitedly informs her about their trip with Captain Pike to the East Coast.

"Oh, you are so lucky! I head that those trips are so much fun! Captain Pike always knows the best bars no matter where he is. You will have to tell me all about it when you get back." The young woman settles down in the seat Nyota has just vacated and begins to check over the console. The young male cadet takes the other seat and puts his earbuds in.

He lifts his duffle from the floor. Hesitating a moment, he then lifts Nyota's bag and hands it to her. He notes with satisfaction that she settles the strap over her other shoulder. They leave the lab and head outside. When he is sure there is no one else on the pathway, he reaches over and retrieves her bag, carrying both easily. He is aware that she tilts her head sideways to look at him, but neither makes a comment.

When they are just outside the shuttle hanger, he hands her duffle back to her and she settles the strap on her shoulder once more. Inside they find Captain Pike halfway down the row of parked shuttles, eager to be on the way. They enter the shuttle and stow their bags in the cargo net at the back. Captain Pike looks from one to the other.

"Spock, how about you take this one and let an old man just rest. Cadet, have you ever been in the navigator's seat of a shuttle?"

"Just once, sir, but it wasn't at night."

Pike wonders when she might have gotten the opportunity to sit in the navigator's seat, but it isn't really important. He waves her into the front of the shuttle, pulls the door closed, and seats himself in the back row. Let the two youngsters stay up, he was going to sleep through this flight. Everyone fastens the safety webbing and the warning light goes off and the hatch seals. He watches the young cadet take the communications control unit from the socket on the console and insert it into her ear. Spock begins the pre-flight checklist, occasionally using one long finger to point to some control or display before him. Cadet Uhura works beside him as if they have done this countless times before. The synchronicity of their movements is similar to ballet, graceful and with no wasted motions. Cadet Uhura is talking to the air traffic controller now, requesting flight clearance. He has observed some of the simulations she has participated in and added her name to the list of candidates being considered for the crew of the Enterprise. This trip will give him an excellent opportunity to watch her in action.

The shuttle lifts from the floor of the hanger, swivels in place, and heads down the broad center corridor towards the slowly opening bay doors. Soon they are rising high above the city lights, heading east. Captain Pike settles back in his seat and falls asleep.

He sets the course and locks it in. There will be little to do for the next hour besides monitoring the instruments. Captain Pike is already sleeping. Without so much as turning his head, he begins to converse with Nyota in Cardassian.

***

The next day is filled with student interviews, trying to convince them of the opportunities and advantages of enlisting in StarFleet. After supper, Captain Pike insists that they change into casual clothing and accompany him to the bar he has selected. He would much rather have found a quite corner where he could sit with Nyota and discuss the latest book of poetry which they had read. However, he has no control over the situation, so he puts on the jeans he has brought with him and a dark red sweater and takes the elevator to the lobby. He cannot even escort Nyota. He is not happy.

***

They enter the dimly lit bar. Music is blaring out, much too loud. Captain Pike leads them across the floor to a booth against the far wall. He sits in the middle of one side, leaving only the other side of the booth for both him and Nyota. He is not sure what to do, but Nyota slides into the booth and softly pats the seat beside her, so he sits stiffly down, keeping as much clear space between them as possible. She is also wearing jeans, and a soft sweater the color of dark honey. The neck of the sweater is a deep vee that does not quite reveal the curves of her breasts. As she reaches across to take her drink from the waiter, it slides sideways, showing him more warm skin. It is very esthetically pleasing.

They sit and talk a bit. Nyota is enjoying the music. Her foot is tapping on the floor and her body sways, just a little, in rhythm to the beat. Captain Pike tilts his head at her and asks if she would like to dance. He must move and let her up, but he does not want to. She skips out onto the dance floor, the captain following her, and begins to sway her whole body to the beat of the music. He clenches his fists under the table top. She should not be dancing with anyone else, she should only dance with _him_. He knows this is illogical, but he cannot stop the feeling. She is smiling at the captain, enjoying herself. He is not enjoying this at all.

The music stops, then starts again. They are still dancing. He is becoming increasingly agitated. He must calm himself. The music stops, then starts again. This song is much like the music that was being played in that bar in Oxford. Captain Pike hesitates, he does not know what to do with this music. Nyota bends and twists in the opening movements of the first suus mahna kata he taught her. The captain is confused and does not know what to do. Before he can think, he is rising from the booth, crossing the space between them, and has begun to move with her, following her movements, turning about her, making her the center of his universe.

Pike stands at the edge of the dance floor in shock. Spock is _dancing_? This is something he never thought to see. The two young people are completely concentrated on one another. It is like there is no one else on the dance floor - or possibly in the entire universe. Pike smiles and goes back to the booth to sit and watch.

**Nyota**

She enjoys talking with the college students they are trying to enlist. She tells them of the many interesting things she has done at the Academy. She speaks with the young linguist in several languages and then employs Spock to demonstrate some which the young linguist has never heard before. She is quite eager to sign up after that. At supper, Captain Pike tells her she has done an excellent job. She is quite happy when she goes to change for the evening's fun.

The bar is not too crowded, but it is very noisy. It is nice sitting so close to Spock, even if he is very stiff. Then one of her favorite songs is being played and she can't help keeping time. She is eager to join the captain on the dance floor, enjoying the music very much. Captain Pike is not a tremendously good dancer, but that doesn't matter.

Then the music changes. This is so similar to the music that she and Spock danced to in Oxford. She cannot help attempting what they did then. The captain is confused. He does not recognize her movements as dance. But in only a moment, she has another dance partner. Spock has insinuated himself between the captain and her. She smiles at him. She glows with happiness. She would not have asked him to dance _here_, but he has come to her on his own. This is so wonderful. She bends and twists and sways and he follows her every movement, arms gliding long so close to hers, body moving first in unison, then in counterpoint. She hums with energy. If the music never stopped, it would be too soon.

But of course, too soon, too soon, the musics stops, and the next piece is not the same. Spock stands in front of her, his eyes locked to hers, dark, dark. She cannot look away. Not until someone bumps into her and she staggers for balance. Spock's hand shoots out and grabs her upper arm, steadying her, giving her balance again, drawing her away from the dance floor. She savors the heat of his hand upon her arm. And then he drops his hand and her arm is cold without his touch.

Captain Pike is there beside them now, saying it's time to head back to the hotel. But she has had this one lovely, lovely dance with Spock to dream about tonight. She smiles all the way back to her room.

***

Saturday was very similar to Friday. There were several more students to meet with. Most of them would probably decide to enlist, from the comments that had been made. But she was very glad to get to her room and out of her uniform. She wasn't used to wearing it all day on Saturday. She changed back into her jeans and another sweater - this one was a pale green turtleneck, made of some soft fuzzy fiber. She loved it because it was so cuddly, so caressing to her skin.

They were going to eat supper in wherever it was that Captain Pike was taking them tonight. She left her room to go down to the lobby. She remembered in Oxford how Spock had always been there to walk her to and from her room. That had been so nice. Spock and Captain Pike were there in the lobby, waiting for her. They walked down the sidewalk two blocks and entered into the bar the captain has selected. They found a booth, sat down, ordered food and drinks. The music here is not as nice as in the bar last night. They sat and talked over a while after they were finished eating, and then walked back to the hotel.

***

Sunday morning was bright and sunny. She sat in the hotel restaurant with Spock and Captain Pike, eating breakfast and discussing their plans for the day. The captain had rented an ATV for them to drive out to the trail head in the hills and had ordered the hotel to fix food for them for the day. The hamper was sitting on the extra chair at their table, ready for them. They had all brought their wraps down to the restaurant with them so that they would be ready to go as soon as they had finished their breakfast.

Just as their were finishing up, Captain Pike's communicator beeped at him. He flipped it open and spoke with someone for a few minutes, then turned back to them with a sigh. "Well, that young computer geek we were working so hard with yesterday has brought his parents to talk with me. If we want to get him enlisted, I am going to have to spend the day answering their questions. Guess you two are going to have to go hiking without me. Have fun and tell me all about the gorgeous foliage in the shuttle this evening, okay?" With that, he got up and walked out of the restaurant, then turned around, came back, and tossed Spock the keys to the ATV before exiting again.

She had really been looking forward to the hike before, now she eagerly anticipated it. All day, out in the hills and woods, with just Spock!

**Spock**

He sat there in shock after Captain Pike made his announcement. Nyota's face was covered with a wide smile. Alone with her all day? Out in the hills? He still had not entirely adjusted to the wonder of it when the captain hurried back in and tossed him the keys to the ATV. He looked at them in his hand, then up at Nyota. She was standing up.

"Spock, I want to go to the ladies' room before we leave, OK? I'll be back in a minute." She walked quickly across the room.

He watched her perfect bottom, molded by the tight jeans, as it swayed across the room. His mind was whirling. They had been _ordered_ to spend the day alone. Together. And Nyota seemed very happy about it.

He still was not completely composed when she came back across to the table and picked up her coat, looking at him with a question in her eyes. He stood and picked up his own coat, the keys in his hand, picked up the hamper of food with his other hand, and they left the restaurant. Outside in the parking lot, they both shrugged into their coats before seating themselves in the open vehicle and fastening the safety webs. Nyota pulled down the navigation panel and found the trip guide that had been preprogrammed, giving him directions to get out of the parking lot and start towards the trail head, which was 30 kilometers away from the hotel. They drove through the crisp fall sunshine both so excited they could hardly contain it.

***

They arrived at the trail head and parked the ATV in the small parking lot. They opened the food hamper and found three small packs inside. Nyota pulled one on over her coat and Spock took the other two, tied the straps together with a tie-lock he found in the hamper and slung them over his left arm, so that they hung behind him. They didn't see any reason to leave any of it behind. They detached the small PADD with the trail data on it from its connection on the dash of the ATV and set off. The trail led through a small woods, into a large meadow and across to some rolling hills, covered with trees in every shade from pale yellow to dark burnt orange. Scattered in among the deciduous trees were dark green pines. It was a beautiful sight. They hiked down the trail, walking steadily at a good pace, across the meadow, up into the hills. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they walked silently, side by side, enjoying each other's company so much that words were not necessary. By lunch time they were at the crest of one of the hills and sat down on a large rock to eat. Afterwards, they sat for a while, so close together they were almost touching, looking out over the hills and valleys, memorizing the scene so that they could describe it to Captain Pike. He wished they could just stay there, he wished he could touch her, he wished for things he did not quite know how to put into words. However, as all these things were impossible, he simply relished being so close to her. It was much more than acceptable.


	11. Chapter 11: Black Magic Woman

**A New Day Coming**

**Chapter 11 : Black Magic Woman**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late October, 2257**

**Spock**

Nyota is not well. She is ... irritable. There are dark circles under her eyes and her usual vibrancy is missing. She mutters to herself as she works, finally jumping up and storming out of the office. In a few minutes she is back, unwrapping a chocolate bar. She sits at her desk and begins to work again, nibbling on the chocolate. After a while she calms down and concentrates better.

Spock observes. He has seen this behavior before. He recalls prior instances, analyzing all the data. There is some cyclical reoccurrence --- ahh. He tucks this knowledge away until the time has come to use it.

***

He came into the office, wet from the soft rain falling outside. He seated himself at his desk, out of sorts from the damp. She came up behind him and began to rub his hair with the small towel she kept to dry the tea cups after she washed them. He held his breath in astonishment, but did not berate her. The tips of her fingers brushed against the edges of his ears, causing shivers of _something_ to run down his spine.

He is still trying to recover his equilibrium when Captain Pike enters the office, sitting down in the chair on the other side of his desk. "Good morning, sir."

Nyota turns in her chair. "Good morning, Captain Pike." Without asking, she retrieves the tea pot and begins to make tea.

Captain Pike is grinning from ear to ear. "We got ten new cadets from that recruiting trip I dragged the two of you on. Both of those computer geeks I wanted and that young linguist, as well as a couple of great engineers and a physicist. Great job!"

They murmur something about being glad to help, while Nyota pours out the tea. He does not think this is the real reason behind the captain's visit, and he is not wrong.

"Once again, Spock, it is time for a staff meeting. Same place and time as last year. But there will twice as many people there this time."

He is not pleased. Last year he almost made a major error in judgement. Only Captain Pike's quick thinking had prevented him from doing something quite rash. He is not sure whether the captain would be able to restrain him under similar circumstances this year. He is casting about for some possible way to refuse when he hears the captain continue to speak.

"Cadet Uhura, are you familiar with the annual Halloween street party?" The captain knows quite well that the cadet does, having seen her last year, so why does he ask such an illogical question?

"Oh, yes, sir. My friends and I go every year."

"I'll look for you then, on Saturday. I always like to see the people under my command taking advantage of free time to let off steam."

"Under your command, sir?"

"Well, not definitely yet, but your name is on the list to be considered, Cadet." Captain Pike smiled at her. Nyota smiled back, elated. "Just be sure to keep getting those excellent grades and your name will stay up there near the top of the list." The captain finished his tea and left the office with a wave.

He had never had a chance to protest attending. He is irritated. This is illogical and not productive.

***

It is Saturday evening. He must leave his research and dress in something casual and go sit in the loud music and drink inferior beverages and watch too many people being loud and exhibiting behaviors in public best performed in private. If he had been a human, someone observing him would have called him grumpy. Because he was half-Vulcan, he was trying extremely hard to hide these trying emotions and present his normal calm exterior. Even the prospect of seeing Nyota dancing with her friends did not help, for there would surely be many human males around her, trying to get her to dance with them, trying to touch her.

He stood in front of his closet, looking at the clothes within. Finally he selected his dark navy slacks and the turtleneck pullover that matched them. Then the light blue shirt to go over. Remembering how Nyota had rolled his cuffs, he looked in the bathroom mirror as he copied her movements, trying to see whether he liked that look. He decided that it contributed to the 'casual' look he had been commanded to achieve and left the sleeves rolled. He was as ready as he would ever be, so he straightened himself up and started towards the street party.

**Nyota**

"Come on, girl, pick out some party clothes! It's time to go dancing!"

Gaila was ready to go and Nyota still couldn't decide what to wear. She knew Spock would be somewhere down that street, sitting with Captain Pike and the other officers that had already been picked for the Enterprise. She assumed that Spock was to be the Science Officer, although he had not talked about it at all. As often as she had mentioned how badly she wanted to serve on the Enterprise, she could not understand _why_ he had not mentioned it. But that didn't matter now. What did matter was that he would be there - and she wanted to look just right. Not too revealing, but just enough. She stood in front of her closet in her plain white underwear, trying to decide what to wear. Apparently he had been there last year too, but she knew she hadn't seen him. She had probably had too many beers to drink last year - this year she was going to keep it to one. She sighed heavily.

Gaila came over to help. She started pawing through the closet. She pulled several things part way out and then changed her mind. Finally she found something and held it out. Nyota wasn't at all sure, but Gaila insisted that she try on the chosen garment.

"Gaila, that's not going to be warm enough."

Gaila pawed through drawers and held up a bodysuit made of almost transparent lace. Nyota looked at it - well, it was actually warmer than it looked, and it would cover her from chin to ankles and wrists, so the lesser amount of coverage from the dress Gaila had chosen wouldn't matter nearly as much. She stripped off the dress, pulled on the bodysuit, put the dress back on. Even before looking in the mirror, she knew by Gaila's reaction that this was the right outfit to wear.

***

Nyota, Gaila, and several other female cadets wandered down the street, dancing, talking, waving at friends engaged in similar activities. Although each had a bottle of beer clutched in her hand, they weren't actually doing much drinking this year. They were just cruisin'.

They were almost to the Galaxy Pit when she saw him. He was sitting one of the tables out front of the Galaxy Pit, next to Captain Pike. They were facing the other way, so he did not see her. She got jittery - what if this went the wrong way? She turned to Gaila, whose face was alight. Okay, she was going to get some help here, then, whether she wanted it or not. "Oh, Gaila, I'm so scared." She whispered.

"Girl, you got to get over that. Now wait, they're starting a new song. We'll just dance right on down there. You keep your back to that table until the next song, got it? Give him some good butt swinging." Gaila was getting excited.

The girls set their empty bottles down on the next table and started dancing. She whirled around so that she was facing the opposite side of the street. If her heart pounded any faster, it might just beat right out of her chest. She was glad they had started several tables back so that she had a chance to get the beat set and lose some of her self-consciousness. She let the music take her, swaying and stamping, jiggling her bottom in circles. Those belly dancing lessons she had taken in high school were finally good for something.

**Spock**

He sat at the table with Captain Pike and the other men who had been selected as officers for the Enterprise. He carried on 'small talk'. He nursed one barely acceptable beer - he did not want to have to drink another. He barely paid any attention to the people dancing in the street until he heard the men on the other side of the table start calling, whistling, stamping their feet. Apparently, there were some girls coming down the street dancing, that they felt were remarkable. He barely suppressed a sigh. Then the first of the girls in the group came far enough down the street that he could see her. That was the Orion girl who was Nyota's roommate. No, it couldn't be. He lifted his head to see a vision in pale lace and red ruffles dancing only a few feet from him.

She was wearing some kind of garment that covered her whole body except for hands, feet, and head in a lace so pale that it was almost transparent. It clung to her, revealing much more than it hid. Every curve, every muscle definition, was accentuated. Over this she wore - he guessed it must be a dress - that seemed to be a collection of short, red ruffles. As she dipped and swayed and circled in front of him, the ruffles swung back and forth, accentuating her perfect round bottom. The dress back went no higher than her waist. He could see, as she twisted, that the front of the bodice was also covered in red ruffles, what there was of it. She shook her bottom and all the ruffles _wiggled_.

His mouth was dry. His body was damp.

Her arms were lifted above her head, Her hands clapped to the rhythm. Her feet stamped on the ground, making her whole body shake. She swung her bottom back and forth, tilted her shoulders backwards, so that her pelvis thrust forward. Her hair swung back and forth, revealing and disclosing her slender back.

He was going to disgrace himself. There was no doubt of it. If even one young man tried to touch her, to get close to her, he was going to rise from where he sat and pummel him. He gathered himself together, ready to defend her.

Beside him, he heard Captain Pike speaking as if from a great distance. "Say, isn't that Cadet Uhura dancing? And that same Orion girl we saw last year? Do you think you could get Cadet Uhura to introduce me?"

He turned his head to the captain in shock. Introduce him? Captain Pike wanted him to go up to Nyota and ask her to introduce her roommate to the captain? About that time the music stopped and the captain gave him a little shove. "Go on, do your captain a favor. I'd _really_ like to meet that Orion girl."

In disbelief he found himself staggering to his feet just as Nyota turned around. She was so close to him that he could smell her - not just her normal scent, sweaty from dancing, but something else, too, something he didn't recognize. She was breathing hard from the exertion, making the little red ruffles bounce up and down. Seeing him, her face lit up and she gave him a big grin. He was finding it extremely difficult just to breathe.

Behind him he heard the captain again, urging him on, wanting an introduction. He found himself trying to talk. "Ny... Nyota." He took a very deep breath - he had made an error - he should not have called her that here. "Captain ... Pike would like ... an introduction ... to your roommate." His hands, clenched at his sides, were shaking.

Nyota swiveled around, calling her friend, then turned back. Gaila came over to the table and Nyota introduced her. The next thing he knew, he was being ordered to bring two more chairs to the table and Gaila was sitting next to the captain, while Nyota was sitting next to his chair. He collapsed down into his chair - he was so close to her that if she turned towards him, she was going to - _did_, brush against him. Her face was so close, too close, not close enough. Those little red ruffles were crushed against his arm. He could feel the swell of her breasts against him. The temperature must have gone up at least ten degrees in the last few seconds.

She leaned just a bit closer to him, looking right in his eyes. Then she spoke very softly, in Vulcan. "Did you enjoy my dancing, Spock?"

She could not have said _anything_ that would have surprised him more. Thoughts circled wildly in his head. She had known that he was watching her? She _wanted_ him to watch her dancing like that?

While he sat there stunned, the captain and the Orion girl got up and left the table arm in arm. The others at the table started getting up and leaving, as well. He could do nothing except stare at Nyota, until she said another thing that he did not expect.

"Could you please escort me back to my dorm, Spock?"

There was nothing he could think of that he would like better.


	12. Chapter 12: Powerful Thing

Author's note : Request for input - I am trying to decide whether to break this into two stories - one for first semester, rated T, and one for second semester, rated M - or whether to just change the rating for the whole thing to M - which I kind of hate to do. The second semester MUST have an M rating - if you have read 'Wet' you have SOME idea of what is coming. I would appreciate input on this subject. Thanks.

____________

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 12 : Powerful Thing**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early November, 2257**

**Monday**

She came into the office at a run once again, obviously without her breakfast. She sat down quickly and began to work on the stack of PADDs on her desk. He crossed to the mini-replicator and dialed her a carton of yoghurt. He retrieved the spoon from the drawer beneath and carried both over to her. As he straightened up from setting them beside her, his hand brushed her arm from wrist to shoulder. She shivered, but she did not say anything, although there was a hitch in her breath. He stood behind her, engulfed in flame, sensing the small bumps that covered her skin where his fingers had brushed, the rise in her body temperature, the change in her scent.

He is having more and more difficulty in subduing his reactions to her. He must keep reminding himself that he is her superior officer. She is in his chain of command and the regulations are very clear. But it is becoming almost impossible to resist touching her. It is still not clear to him how he avoided touching her when he walked her home from the Halloween street party. But he had had the clear feeling at that time that simply touching would _not_ be enough. His control had been so weak that night. So he had left her at the door to her dorm and spent the remainder of the night trying to meditate away the roiling emotions that had flooded his system. And now he sat at his desk trying to subdue them again.

***

They have cooked supper, cleaned the kitchen. Now they are sitting on the floor pillows and Nyota is trying to help him understand jokes. She thought it would help him in dealing with humans. So far she has not succeeded. When he asked her to explain _why_ something was funny, she often was puzzled and said, "because it just is." This was not helpful. He thinks that she has learned the concept of funny when she was so small that she did not even remember learning it. So now she is telling him jokes, while he tries in vain to understand them.

Nyota tells another joke "An English professor announced to the class; "There are two words I don't allow in my class. One is gross and the other is cool." From the back of the room a voice called out, "So, what are the words?" " She waits.

He sighs. "Will you tell me what the words are so that I may try to solve this strange puzzle."

"But I did tell you the words."

He looks at her. "You described the words."

"Yes."

He closes his eyes. This is _very_ difficult. He rubs his forehead. He opens one eye and glares at her. "You both described the words and told me the words?"

"Yes." She is trying very hard not to laugh at him.

He goes back over the what she has said. An instructor talking to his class. The statement that there are two words which are not allowed. The descriptions of the two words - wait, the descriptions _themselves _are words. A glimmer of understanding begins to appear. He opens both eyes, looks at her. "The words are 'gross' and 'cool'?"

Now she does smile, broadly. "Yes, yes, that's it!"

"The instructor tells his students there are two words they cannot say. When he tells them the words, the students think he is describing the words."

"Yes, that's it exactly."

"It is funny because his students are illogical and not very intelligent?"

"Well, I don't know whether I would have put it just like that, but you're getting there."

"Getting where?"

"You're starting to understand. Let's try another one. This is a sign on a store: Why go elsewhere to be cheated when you can come here?" She waits for his comment.

He thinks. This obviously does not actually mean what it seems to say. The store owner would not admit to cheating people. Perhaps that _is_ the point. "This one is funny because the store owner seems to be telling prospective customers that he will cheat them there?"

"Yes, yes! Oh, that's good."

"But no store owner would actually put up such a sign."

She sighs. "You would be surprised. But whether it would actually happen or not has no effect on whether it is considered to be funny or not."

"Something which could not possibly happen can be considered funny?"

"Oh, yes indeed. Now try this - this is a word definition. The word is 'guilty'. The definition is "a hot beverage made from fish gills".

The very idea of drinking a hot beverage made from fish gills makes him nauseous. "NYOTA! No one would do that!"

She giggles. "That's part of what makes it funny! Now figure it out."

He considers. Gill tea. Guilty. "This one is a pun. It is funny because of the word confusion?"

"Yes, and also the definition itself is silly, like you said, no one would ever do that. Okay, one more. This is another word definition. I think you'll like this one. The word is 'Punish'."

Of course he knows this word, it means to treat someone as they deserve for behaving improperly.

"The definition is "A language consisting entirely of bad jokes".

He looks at her in horror. "No language can be composed from bad jokes! And there is no connection between the word and the definition. No possible connection." Suddenly, an alternate spelling of the word occurs to him. Punnish. He gapes at her, as she struggles to hold back her laughter. Something trickles through his mind. He cocks his head and looks straight in her eyes. "Very punny, Nyota."

She rolls on the floor and laughs so hard tears leak from her eyes.

**Thursday**

They sit in the message array lab, monitoring transmissions. They are both wearing ear buds, sitting in front of the dual console. Occasionally one or the other will make some small adjustment to one of the controls. There is not much to hear tonight. He finds that he is almost bored. He begins to think about where he will take Nyota to eat when they are relieved. Perhaps that Chinese restaurant. They had not eaten Chinese food in several weeks. He is really not concentrating on the console before him when suddenly it erupts in bright sparks. Immediately, he jumps to his feet, much faster than Nyota can move, grabs the back of her wheeled chair and pushes it hard across the room, leaping after it. Behind him the entire console begins to flame. Once on the far side of the room, he grabs the fire extinguisher off the wall and points to towards the console. He hears Nyota behind him slap the communicator box on the wall beside the door and begin shouting into it. There is dense, dark, foul-smelling smoke billowing out into the room from the burning console. He continues to spray the console from the fire extinguisher, but it does not seem to have any effect. He can hear Nyota choking behind him. Dropping the fire extinguisher, he whirls around and lifts her into his arms, just as she starts to collapse. He pushes through the door, into the hall, and down the hall, through the outside door into the fresh air. Behind him, from the building, he hears the loud wailing of the alert siren. There are people running from several directions. As he kneels on the grass beside the pathway, Nyota coughing in his arms, someone else kneels beside him. Turning his head, he recognizes the cadet from the medical program that accompanied Nyota on that away mission simulation that went so wrong.

"Damn, I only have a mini-kit with me. She sounds like she needs oxygen. What did she inhale - some sort of toxic smoke?"

"Yes. Only for a few minutes. As soon as she started to cough, I abandoned trying to put out the fire and brought her outside."

"Good. That was the right thing to do. Keep her upright - she'll breathe better." McCoy pulled a hypospray from the small medical kit he wore at his waist, adjusted the control ring, and set it against her neck and injected her with something. "I'm giving her some tri-ox to help her breathing." He adjusted the ring twice again and gave her additional injections. After the third one, she began to beat his hands away.

"No, don't. That hurts."

She had almost stopped coughing and choking, though, so the compounds the doctor had administered must be helping.

"Well, darlin', you needed that stuff or I wouldn't have done it. I know you don't like medications, but this time you really needed it. Now be quiet and try to breathe easier." McCoy continued to monitor her with a small medical diagnostic tricorder. Apparently satisfied with what he say there, he turned his head to Spock. "She needs to be monitored for several hours. Just to be sure her lungs are clear. I can take her to the Medical Center if you want."

"That will not be necessary. She is my responsibility and I will watch her." He thought perhaps the doctor looked at him a bit strangely, but he dismissed that notion. Nothing was important except Nylota's recovery. "What should I look for?"

"Well, if she starts to choke or cough again, or if her lungs become congested. If she fall unconscious suddenly, or her color goes all wonky."

"Wonky?"

"Pale - if she gets all pale and clammy, that's not good. It's a good thing I just happened to be passing by at the right time. Call me if she exhibits any of the signs I mentioned. Call me right away, got that?"

"Yes, doctor, I will do so."

"It's McCoy. Just in case you've forgotten."

"I have not forgotten. You were one of the cadets on that away simulation mishap last year. Your behavior was acceptable then, also."

Beside him the cadet muttered something about pointy-ears, but still did not leave. He was monitoring Nyota with the tricorder again.

Someone came up behind him and addressed him. "Commander Spock, sir. We have the fire out. We also have some draft fans going to clear the air out of the lab. We're going to seal off the corridor on each side of the lab to keep people out of that area until all those toxins are cleared out. What set that off, do you know?"

He reluctantly relinquished Nyota to the medical cadet and stood up. "The console just erupted in sparks, then almost immediately in fire. The fire extinguisher did not help. When Cadet Uhura began to choke I abandoned efforts to put out the fire and brought her outside. I have no idea what caused this."

"Well, I guess they'll probably send in a team to check out the whole lab tomorrow. Doesn't seem like anyone was injured. If you could file a report in the morning to go with mine, I'd appreciate it."

"Yes I will do that. Thank you for your fast response."

He turned back to Nyota, who was definitely breathing easier.

Cadet McCoy rose from the ground beside her. "Just watch her for those symptoms I mentioned. If she doesn't show any problems in three or four hours, you can let her sleep, but not before then, Okay? And send her over to the Medical Center in the morning so that I can run some scans to be sure there isn't any damage." With that he turned and strode off down the pathway.

He knelt down beside Nyota again. "Are you sufficiently recovered that I can remove you from this area, Nyota?"

She looked up at him and just nodded her head a bit. She looked very tired. She held her hand on her throat and grimaced.

"Is your throat raw from the smoke?" She nodded again. "Then do not try to talk. I have instructions from the doctor and I shall follow them."

He slid one arm under her bent knees and the other around her back and lifted her from the ground. She gasped a bit and grabbed onto the front of his jacket. He straightened up and adjusted her against his chest with her head tucked under his chin and started down the pathway across the campus. He would take her straight to his quarters and watch her, just as the doctor had instructed him.

**Nyota**

**Monday**

She had one of those mornings when nothing seemed to work right. She was jogging back from the track to her room when one of her shoelaces came untied and she tripped over it. Fortunately, she landed in the grass and didn't have any scrapes or bruises to show for it, but she had to limp the rest of the way to her quarters. By the time she got there, Gaila was already in the shower, so she had to wait. This threw her whole schedule off and she had no time to get to the mess hall. She dashed into Commander Spock's office only a little bit late, and threw her things down as she collapsed into her chair. Puffing a little bit, she drew the waiting stack of student PADDs towards her and started reading. She even forgot to give Spock a good morning greeting.

About the time she caught her breath and settled down, Spock leaned over her right shoulder and set a container of yoghurt and a spoon in front of her. As he straightened back up, his long fingers trailed across the back of her hand and up her arm to her shoulder. She inhaled sharply at the unexpectedness of it. She could feel goosebumps forming all up and down her arm as she flushed. _What had just happened_? He was still standing there behind her at her shoulder. She didn't dare to move, having no idea what he expected her to do next. After the way he had just walked off and left her in front of her dorm after walking her back from the Halloween street party, she just wasn't sure any more. She had been sure that there was interest there, but now she just didn't know. After a moment, he moved and sat back down in his own chair. Totally unable to concentrate, she huffed a bit, trying to settle her breathing again, then straightened up and opened the yoghurt. Blueberry, her favorite. She picked up the spoon and slowly ate the yoghurt.

***

Spock has been having problems understanding when people are trying to be humorous. After several years of living among mostly humans, he still does not understand humor, so she has promised to help, if she can. So after they have finished cleaning the kitchen, instead of reading poetry, they sit on the floor pillows and she tells him jokes and makes him analyze them. Although he has a hard time with it, she thinks maybe he is actually starting to understand.

Unfortunately, he is extremely careful not to touch her at all tonight. She still is not sure whether he touched her on purpose this morning or not. She is, however, very sure how it affected her.

***

**Thursday**

She sits at the console in the message array lab, monitoring transmissions. There is not much to monitor tonight. Her thoughts drift. She wonders where Spock is going to take her out to eat at shift end. Maybe she ought to be wondering _whether_ he would take her somewhere, but he hasn't missed one week since he started, so she thinks maybe _whether_ isn't a question anymore. She is still not entirely certain that these late dinners are dates - maybe it's just Spock's way of being certain that she gets enough to eat. On the other hand, why would he be so insistent that she needed 'adequate nourishment' if he didn't care about her in some way? The whole thing is very perplexing. Of course, there is the fact that he is her commanding officer and they shouldn't be 'dating' at all. She is very conscious of his heat so close to her. _What would it feel like to have that heat touching her_?

She is so lost in daydreaming that when the sparks start flying she has no time to react before Spock pushes her chair violently across the room - so hard, in fact, that her knees slam into the opposite wall. He comes leaping after her and grabs the fire extinguisher off the wall. Turning, she sees flames shooting up from the console where they had been sitting only seconds ago. She jumps up and slaps the communications console on the wall beside the hall door. "Emergency in message array lab! Electrical fire! Emergency in message array lab!"

Spock is spraying the console with the chemical foam from the fire extinguisher, but it doesn't seem to be helping. Great clouds of roiling black smoke are pouring into the room. Her next breath burns her nose, her throat, and her lungs. She starts to cough and then to choke. Before she can even head to the door, she sees sparkles in her dimming vision and begins to collapse, only to find herself lifted up into warm arms and carried through the door, down the hall, and outside where the air is mercifully clean and crisp. She clings to Spock and coughs and chokes, trying to fill her starved lungs, but they only burn more. Then she feels the sting of a hypospray against the side of her neck. Spock has one hand splayed across her back, forcing her upright, the other is on her midriff, supporting her. Twice again she feels the hypospray sting, but her breathing is coming easier now, the burn starting to subside.

She turns and sees Leonard McCoy with his hypospray poised ready to inject her again and raises her hands weakly, trying to push him away. "No, don't. That hurts."

She knows Len is talking to her, but the words don't seem to make much sense. Her throat hurts terribly bad. She can feel Spock's warmth all around her and it is so soothing, she just wants to lay against him and go to sleep. If only she could breath just a little better. Len is running his tricorder over her and she just wants him to go away. She can hear people talking, but it just seems to be noise. Then Spock removes his arms from around her and stands up. She makes some some noise of disappointment, but it hurts her throat, so she stops. Len is still there beside her, still with that stupid tricorder, telling her to be calm and breath easy. _If only she could!_

Then Spock kneels down beside her again. "Are you sufficiently recovered that I can remove you from this area, Nyota?"

She nods, holding onto her burning throat. Then gasps as he scoops her up and stands swiftly. He settles her against his chest, tucking his chin against the top of her head and strides off down the pathway. She doesn't really care where he's taking her, this is just lovely. _So I have to inhale toxic smoke in order to get you to hold me_?

She relaxes against his warmth, feeling very protected. She assumes he is taking her to her dorm and drowses in his arms. After a short time they enter a building and he is climbing stairs. She is confused, her room is on the ground floor. _Where is he taking her_?

"Can you open the door, Nyota?" Spock's voice is soft, so close.

She opens her eyes, squinting. There is a touchplate just in front of her. She reaches out, flails her hand in that direction. As much by accident as intention, her hand falls on the lit area and triggers the door opening mechanism.

Spock strides through the door and starts giving instructions to the computer. "Lock door. Lights 25 percent. Drop temperature 5 degrees." He carries her across the living room, through the bedroom, into the bathroom and sits her on the counter. He wets a cloth in the sink and begins to wash the smoke off her face, gently. She closes her eyes and tilts her chin up to make it easier for him. When he has finished, he picks her up again and carries her back into the living room, depositing her on the couch. She sits there in some confusion. _Why are they in his quarters?_

He comes back quickly with a blanket, which he drapes over her and tucks in under her arms. Then he kneels down and removes her boots and tucks the blanket in under her feet. He looks up at her from where he is kneeling on the floor. "Stay awake, Nyota. McCoy says you must stay awake for at least three hours. I want to fix you some tea to sooth your throat. Will you be all right here for a few minutes? Just nod." His eyes are full of concern.

She nods at him. He goes into the kitchen and she hears water running and cupboards opening. Soon he is back with a steaming mug in his hand. He sits in front of her on the low table in front of the couch and holds the mug towards here. "Just sip." He holds the mug and tilts it so that she can take a small sip. The hot tea slides down her throat. It hurts to swallow and her throat is so sore. A tear slides down her cheek. He holds the mug out again. "Take another small sip. Swallow slowly." Bit by bit she drinks the tea, until the mug is empty. Her throat feels a little better.

She leans her head against the back of the couch. She would just like to go to sleep, she feels so tired. Her eyes start to close. Then she feels a very warm finger brush the side of her face. "You must stay awake, Nyota. McCoy says you must stay awake. I am to monitor your breathing to be sure your lungs are functioning properly. Open your eyes and look at me, Nyota."

Wearily, she opens her eyes again. He looks so worried. And her throat hurts too much to reassure him. She raises one shaky hand and reaches for him. He leans towards her, letting her rest her fingers against his cheek. She sighs, just a small sound, and then gives him a little smile. He quirks his lips back at her, looking a bit less strained. She lets her hand drop back in her lap and tries to stay awake.

**Spock**

After an hour of fixing her tea, encouraging her to sip it slowly, talking to her, forcing her to open her eyes, and starting the whole cycle over again with another cup of tea, he thinks she is alert enough that he can leave her sitting there for a few moments on her own. He crosses to the comlink and calls her roommate. When Gaila's face appears on the screen, he gives her a quick rundown on what has happened. Gaila is very concerned. Then he makes a request that has her gaping at him. "Cadet Uhura is wearing a uniform that is saturated with smoke. I do not think that is helping her recovery any. Bring her a clean uniform. Also bring her nightclothes. She will be staying here all night." At Gaila's astonishment, he continues. "I have been given orders to keep her awake for three to four hours and monitor her breathing to be sure there are no complications. If you will bring her clothing here, you can assist her to shower to remove the remaining traces of smoke. Then you can monitor her while I do the same. And you can remove the smoke contaminated clothing from my quarters. I feel this will be very beneficial to her recovery." He paused again. "Please do hurry."

He terminated the transmission, only realizing after fifteen minutes that he had not given Gaila the number to his quarters. He was about to return to the comlink when his door chime sounded. Opening his door he found the Orion cadet standing there with Nyota's carrybag, bulging with clothing. He stepped aside and motioned her in. She went immediately to kneel before Nyota, clasping Nyota's hands in hers and exclaiming. He took the carrybag in and laid it on his bed, then went into the bathroom and set the temperature controls in the shower lower than his own preference. He went back to the living room, where Gaila was still kneeling in front of Nyota, talking to her. He motioned her aside and picked Nyota up, blanket and all, and carried her into the bathroom, setting her carefully on her feet. He took the blanket over his arm and backed out of the small room, turning to find Gaila right behind him. "Help her to undress and shower. Then help her dress in her nightclothes. Put the smoke damaged uniform in her carrybag and put it by the door. Call me when you are finished." He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He sat down heavily in one of the chairs at the table, for the first time allowing himself to react to what has happened.

****

When Gaila opened the bedroom door and called to him, he rose and entered the bedroom. Nyota was sitting on the edge of his bed in loose pants and a long-sleeve tee-shirt. She looked very pale, but did not appear clammy. Her hair was wrapped in a towel. Carefully, he scooped her up and carried her back to the couch, tucking the blanket back around her. Then he went into the kitchen and made her another cup of tea. Carrying it to Gaila, he instructed her how to hold it and warned her to only give Nyota one small sip at a time and to keep talking to her. Then he went into the bedroom, shut the door, and stripped out of his uniform, adding it to the carrybag. His underclothes he stuffed into the laundry hamper in his closet. He reset the shower temperature controls and took a quick shower, being sure to lather himself well to remove any possible smoke. He dried himself quickly and dressed in his meditation clothes. Then he opened the bedroom door and carried Nyota's carrybag containing the smoky clothes and set it beside the hall door. Gaila was sitting in the same spot he had occupied earlier, talking to Nyota, who was listening with slightly glazed eyes. He noticed that the towel was no longer wrapped around her head. Her hair, still slightly damp, hung down loosely around her shoulders.

He went and knelt before her, telling Gaila to be quiet so that he could listen to Nyota's breathing. It seemed a bit easier, perhaps the moisture in the air from the shower had been beneficial. Satisfied that she did not seem to be deteriorating, he rose again. "Thank you for your assistance, Cadet. You may return to your own quarters now. I need to keep Nyota awake for at least another two hours. Then I will allow her to sleep. I will continue to monitor her breathing throughout the night. She is to report to the Medical Center first thing in the morning to be checked. If you could please come back to help her dress for this, it would be appreciated."

Gaila seemed to be dazed, but agreed to show up in the morning, and left, taking the carrybag with her.

He fixed Nyota another cup of tea and sat down in front of her again, talking quietly to her of anything he could think of to keep her alert. It did not occur to him for some time that he was speaking in Vulcan.

***

When four hours had passed since the time that he carried her out of the burning lab, and her lungs were still clear, he decided that he could let her sleep. He picked her up carefully and carried her into the bedroom. He started to sit her down on the bed, but she put her hand up against his chest, stopping him. Dropping her eyes, she hesitated, then pointed towards his bathroom. He realized that he had given her many cups of tea over the last four hours. Human kidneys and bladders did not work as efficiently as Vulcan ones. He carried her into the bathroom, took the blanket, and backed out. He closed the bathroom door and waited. He tried not to listen, knowing that it would probably embarrass her to be overheard. In a few moments, the bathroom door opened. She teetered there, obviously not steady on her feet. Once again he lifted her in his arms and carried her the short distance to the bed. With one arm, he swept the covers aside and carefully laid her in the middle of the bed. Then he drew the covers up over her, covering her up to her chin. He sat down beside the bed, folding his legs in the same way he did when meditating. Taking the extra blanket that had been around her as she sat on the couch, he draped it around his shoulders.

"Go to sleep now, Nyota. I will watch over you."

The hand closest to him wormed its way out from under the covers and reached towards him. He looked at it, unsure of her meaning. She wiggled her fingers and curved them up. He leaned towards her. "I do not know what you want, Nyota."

Her forehead wrinkled. He saw the muscles in her throat working. In a hoarse croak, she whispered. "Hand." Just the one word. She wanted to hold his hand, he was sure that that was what she meant. This would be extremely difficult, but he did not see how he could deny her. He extended one hand toward her, laying two fingers on top of hers. She sighed then, and he saw the tension draining from her face. Her eyes drifted shut. Through the touch of her fingers he felt how raw her throat still felt, how her eyes stung, how it still hurt to breathe. He also felt how safe and protected she felt because he was there beside her. Although the pain was not in the least acceptable, the other feelings made him content.

***

He sat beside her as she slept, monitoring her breathing, noticing the very gradual easing of the pain in her throat and lungs. At 0800, he rose quietly and went to the comlink to call her roommate again. It took him ten minutes to rouse her. He was very agitated by then. "Cadet, you are needed. Please come to help Nyota dress so that I can take her to the Medical Center." He did not even realize that he had called her Nyota. But Gaila did.


	13. Chapter 13: And I Love Her

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 13 : And I Love Her**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid November, 2257**

**Thursday**

He arose in the cool morning when it was barely light. Putting on Academy sweats and running shoes, he jogged to the track and began his daily 10 km run. As he curved around the end of the track, he saw her ahead of him. This is the first time she has been on the track since the fire in the message array lab. As he approached from behind he slowed his pace. Together they ran laps around the track.

"You usually run faster than this."

"I will run faster when you have finished."

She wisely did not run as long as normal, but he heard nothing abnormal in her breathing. It was quite satisfactory to have her back to her normal morning routine. After she has left the track, he speeds up again, but he is still thinking of her. There is something he needs to attend to.

***

He is sitting at his desk, doing paperwork, when one of the technicians from the computer lab walks in and stops in front of him. He recognizes this technician, he has seen him many times in the lab, and he was at the Thanksgiving pot-luck last year.

"Command Spock, sir, I was wondering whether you could help me. I'm in charge of procuring the drinks for the Thanksgiving pot-luck this year and you were so much help with that keg last year, I was wondering whether you could come along this year and help us carry stuff."

He sits there, not quite knowing what to say. Nyota has not mentioned the pot-luck, so he has not assumed that he is invited this year. He will not go if she does not wish it. He is considering several different things he might say when he hears Nyota's voice behind him, very low, speaking in Vulcan.

"You _**are**_ going."

He can very definitely hear the emphasis - emphasis that should not be there in a Vulcan sentence. This is deliberate. She is conveying a message. "If you will tell me when and where I should be, I will be glad to assist you."

The technician smiles and says he will be in contact when the details are set, waves and leaves the office.

He has been included, accepted. This is Nyota's doing.

***

That evening he supervises the last of the repairs in the message array lab. The fault was in the consoles, not in the array itself. The contractor hired to make them had not used the correct insulated wires, thinking to save money. Another contractor now makes the consoles. And they can start to listen again.

**Nyota**

**Friday**

When Nyota drags into the office with cramps, there is a small box of chocolates sitting on her desk. She stares at it in disbelief. She swivels in her chair and looks at Spock's straight back. She looks back at the chocolate. She does not know what to think. How does he know that she _really_ wants chocolate this morning? She opens the little box and chooses one of the little truffles inside. She sniffs it - oh, this is _good_ chocolate. She takes a nibble out of the side - dark chocolate with raspberry - oh, yum. She makes a very small sound of appreciation as she continues to savor the chocolate in small bites.

She has almost finished the contents of the box when she thinks to offer Spock a piece.

"No thank you, Cadet. I find that chocolate does not agree me with at all. I had the misfortune to eat some at a party when I was a cadet. It did not agree with my digestive system. It was not an enjoyable experience."

"That is too bad, Commander. Chocolate is one of the most delicious foods in the whole world. And this is _very _good chocolate."

"I am glad it meets with your approval, Cadet." His lips quirk up in that tiny smile he gives her.

She has a thought - there is something she has been meaning to ask him and has forgotten. "Commander, some of us have decided that we need to have some music at our pot-luck. Could you please bring your ka'athyra and play? I would love to sing that old Vulcan song. Several of the people coming belong to the Chorale and I know they would really enjoy it." She looks at him expectantly.

"It would be acceptable." He pauses. "If I am to help carry in the drinks, I may need to give the ka'athyra case to you earlier to carry in, if this is not contrary to your plans?"

"It wouldn't be a problem at all, sir." She smiles happily as she goes back to grading papers.

**Spock**

**Friday**

Nyota comes in to the office. Yes, this was the correct morning to set out the chocolate. She is definitely drooping. She gives him a vague greeting as she passes, and settles down into her chair. Then she is quiet. He hears her chair moving - she must have turned about to look at him. But she has not said anything, so he pretends that he has not heard. The chair moves again. There are small noises - she has opened the box. He hears her inhale deeply, then a small sigh. Tiny little sounds of teeth biting. He shivers slightly. She hums, makes a tiny moan. She is enjoying the chocolate, he has chosen well. But his temperature has risen and he is having difficulty in concentrating on what he is reading with the small sounds of her enjoyment behind him.

***

Later in the morning she asks him to bring his ka'athyra to the pot-luck - she wishes to sing with him. This causes a very comfortable sensation - he cannot quite place what it is, but it is definitely acceptable.

**Tuesday**

This is the first time they will spend together in the message array lab since the fire. This is not their usual night, but many of the cadets have already left for the short leave, so they are filling in. The array will be shut down tomorrow afternoon and stay down until Monday morning. He is careful to arrive well before Nyota should be there. Sometimes humans have lingering reactions to things that have happened. He does not think Nyota will be upset to be in this room again, but he is not sure.

When she comes in, she pauses just for a moment at the doorway, then straightens just a bit and comes on across the room and sits in her accustomed chair. She smiles at him as she puts in the earbuds and settles down to listen. He is very pleased with her.

After their shift is over, he takes her to the Chinese restaurant that he was contemplating the night of the fire. He has missed these late dinners and is glad they have resumed. This is _not_ illogical.

"Nyota, on Wednesday evenings you have Chorale practice, correct?"

"Yes, most Wednesdays. Not this week, though, because of the short leave."

He had thought to meet her after the practice, to walk her home and give her his ka'athyra. Well, that would not work if she did not have practice. As he is trying to figure out another approach, she speaks.

"I was wondering." She pauses. "Whether you would want to practice the songs we might sing on Thursday?" She waits, looking at him.

Practice? That would mean that she would come to his quarters again, and it would have to be tomorrow evening, when she did _not_ have chorale practice. She is still waiting for his answer. He is hesitant, but decides it cannot hurt to ask. "Perhaps you could come tomorrow and help me prepare dinner, and afterwards we could choose the songs and practice them?" Almost he holds his breath, waiting for her answer.

She smiles widely. "Oh, yes, that would be nice."

It is agreed then. It is extremely acceptable.

**Wednesday**

She arrives with a list of songs. He compares it to the list he has made. Almost all the songs are identical. She says they must practice all the songs and then select four or five to play. Playing fourteen songs will take considerable time. This is extremely acceptable.

After they have decided which songs they will sing, he walks her back to her quarters. When they are standing in front of her building, he holds the ka'athyra case out to her. Her fingers close over his on the handle of the case, making them tingle. He tries to block the wave of warmth that he feels from her, but is not entirely successful. It is most stimulating.

She tilts her head, looking up at him. "I promise to be careful with it, Spock. I will not let it come to any harm."

_Why does it seem that she is not talking about his ka'athyra_?

**Thursday**

Once again he must decide what to wear. Choosing casual clothing has not gotten any easier, even now that he seems to have more occasions to do so. He thought back, going over the clothing that others had been wearing last year. A sweater, then, and jeans. And a jacket over, because he would be outside, helping to procure the drinks. Laying out the clothing he had chosen, he stepped into the bathroom and began his preparations.

***

When he reached the designated meeting place, he found the computer lab technician already there with the rented vehicle they were going to use to collect the various beverages on their list. In a few minutes, two more young men arrived, one a cadet, the other an instructor from the computer science division. They all settled in the vehicle and fastened their safety webbing. Since he had somehow gotten the 'shotgun' seat, he programmed their destinations into the navigation system and they were off.

They made several stops - one for the keg of beer, one at a liquor store for various types of wine and ale, one at another store for water, sodas, fruit juice, and the final one at an off-world exotics store for some very strange items. Most likely these latter had a much higher intoxication level than the other items they had purchased. Finally having purchased everything on the list, they headed back to the campus and parked as close as possible to the party rental center. It would take them several trips to carry everything in.

He waited until the other men had selected things from the cargo area before lifting the keg out. He set it on the open cargo bay door and debated on the best way to carry it before lifting it up to his left shoulder. His left arm went up the outside of the keg with his hand flattened on the top. His right hand splayed across the front of the keg, balancing it. He started off in the direction of the rental center while one of the others closed up the vehicle. Each of the others had a large carton of bottles. It seems each of them had come to the conclusion that it was better to carry the heavier items first. It was only logical to exert the most energy when fresh.

When they got to the correct building, they trailed down the hall. Apparently they had the same room as last year. They got to the door. No one had a free hand. They stood there looking at each other. He considered whether the keg would tilt if he removed his right hand. But just then, Nyota, Gaila and several other young women came down the hall, laden with bags of groceries. Nyota had his ka'athyra case in her right hand. Quickly, she hurried to the touch plate at the door and entered the code they had been given. The women stepped back and let the men with the heavier burdens in the room first. He barely had time to catch her eyes before he was being herded back out for a second load. But he had gotten one of her blinding smiles.

**Nyota**

**Thursday**

After breakfast she and Gaila met several of the others to buy the groceries. They carried the bags across the campus to the party rental center, arriving just after the four men arrived with the first load of beverages. Spock was carrying the heavy keg all by himself, on one shoulder. She had known he was strong, but hadn't realized just _how_ strong. He made it look very easy, while the other three men were each carrying one box of bottles and straining.

She set her bags of groceries down on the counter and they started sorting things out. Two of the other young women started chopping celery and onions for the stuffing, while a third began tearing up a loaf of bread. Someone else was mixing up cornbread. She and Gaila wrestled the turkey out its sealed covering and washed it inside and out. They found the roasting pan they had used last year, and between the two of them, got the heavy bird into the pan. By then the cornbread was beginning to smell good. By the time it came out of the oven, crispy brown on top, all the other ingredients for the stuffing where chopped or torn and mixed in a large bowl. They cut the cornbread in half and crumbled one half into the stuffing. Then they mixed in enough broth to make it stick together and crammed handfuls of it into both ends of the turkey. While she held the skin flap over the end, Gaila stuck skewers in to hold it in place. They had the lid on by the time the men arrived back with the second load of beverages.

She opened the door of the hot oven and realized that they had not moved the rack. Taking one of the padded mitts off the counter, she pulled the top rack out of the oven and looked for a place to put it. Finally she just stuck it back in the oven, on top of the one near the bottom. Seeing that the men were ready to leave for another load, she quickly crossed the room and touched Spock's arm. "Can you please put the turkey roaster in the oven before you go out again?"

He turned, looked down at her and nodded. Following her back to the oven, he lifted the heavy pan down off the counter and easily slid it into the oven. She closed the oven door and smiled at him. He quirked the corner of his mouth at her and turned to join the other men for the last load of beverages.

Now that the turkey was roasting, the women looked at all the other work that remained to be done, then as one, grabbed the remaining cornbread, cut it up and spread it with butter. When every crumb of crusty cornbread and melted butter had been consumed, they begin to peel vegetables and put casseroles together.

The men brought in the last load of beverages. Some of the wine bottles went into the fridge. One of the men went off to take the rented vehicle and collect a few people who lived off-campus. Someone else carried out the already-full trash can and emptied in down the chute at the end of the hall. Everyone was finding things to do. People kept arriving at intervals, some bringing in games or more food. At some point, she glanced up and saw that Spock was laying a fire in the fireplace so that it would be ready in the evening. Later on she saw him reaching down dishes from the top shelf of a cabinet for one of the really petite girls. She smiled to herself at how well he was fitting in when he forgot that he was supposed to be remote and withdrawn. They put the casseroles in the smaller oven to bake and looked around. There was nothing to do until it was time to start taking things out of the oven. All the things which needed to be cold were in the fridge, everything which needed to be hot was cooking, except the bread rolls, which would cook last. She could sit down for a few minutes.

She looked around. Spock was playing chess with Lieutenant Jervis. She wandered over and sat down on the broad arm of a chair near their table and watched the game. Lieutenant Jervis was going to lose again. After sitting there for a few minutes, she had an idea. She went back into the kitchen and made a pot of tea, pouring out two cups. She took one and set it down near Spock's left elbow and sat back on the chair arm with the other. Spock was considering his move, his hands steepled in front of him. After another moment's consideration, he made his move, then picked up his cup and sipped. His eyes slid sideways and met hers, dancing. She smiled back over the top of her cup and leaned back against the side of the chair back, just resting until time to finish the meal.

***

When the oven timers started going off, she got up and went back to the kitchen. She opened the big oven, and with Gaila's help pulled out the oven rack and tilted the lid off the roaster. Yes, that bird was ready. She looked up to see Spock headed in her direction and quickly pulled off the padded mitts and handed them to him. He easily picked up the heavy roasting pan and set it on the cooking surface. While Gaila moved the rack and set the pan of bread rolls in, she found the large forks used to life the bird out of the roaster and handed them to Spock. This time she kept both hands under the platter so that it did not dip when he placed the turkey on it. She got it lowered to the counter top just in time.

She found the carving utensils and handed them to Spock, who raised one eyebrow at her, but nevertheless started carving. She found the empty platters and set them next to him and then started carrying dishes to the table.

***

When they had filled their plates, they found a place to sit by a low table, but Spock set down his plate and went back to the fridge, bringing back a bottle of wine and two glasses. He set the glasses down, opened the bottle, took the corkscrew back to the kitchen, came back and poured out wine in the two glasses, then settled down beside her on the floor pillows. She noticed that he had a large spoonful of cranberry jelly on his plate, as well as a large spoonful of the cranberry-orange salad. He must really like that sweet-tart fruit. He was much more relaxed about the whole day than he had been last year.

***

After everyone was stuffed, they put the food away and cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher, carried out the trash, and then people settled down into various activities. Like last year, there were various sports to watch, and people had brought some board games. There was a poker game going on in one corner. After the sports telecast finished, people brought out the musical instruments they had brought with them. Someone lit the fire Spock had prepared earlier and everyone settled down to enjoy the playing and singing. She and Spock were up last. They finished with the very old Vulcan love song. It was so quiet when they finished, then a collective sigh went up. Even people who hadn't understood the words had understood and appreciated the beauty and emotion in the song.

Then someone suggested a jam session. There was some discussion as to what to play, and she noticed that Spock had a slightly puzzled look. She leaned over just a bit and whispered "They are all going to play together. You are expected to join in as well." His face smoothed out and he paid more attention to the discussion over what to play. The impromptu band played several selections, ending with a sing-a-long, which everyone seemed to enjoy. Then it was time to pack everything up, finish the last of the cleanup, and walk back to the dorms.

***

When they stood at the door to her dorm, Spock stood looking down at her. She wished she could interpret the look in his eyes. It seemed so much that he wanted to say something to her, but he just stood there. Finally he inhaled, drew himself up a bit and said that it was an acceptable day and left. Feeling a little let down, she entered the dorm and went into her room. Gaila had left the party with that computer lab technician, so she had the room all to herself. She would take a nice long hot shower before she went to bed.

**Spock**

The day had been quite agreeable. He had not found himself an outsider. He knew what type of behavior was expected of him this year and found that this made it much easier. Playing while Nyota stood behind him, singing, with her hand resting lightly on his shoulder had been astounding. _Had she realized that her hand was on his shoulder?_ He found that he did not care one way or the other. No one had appeared to notice anything out of the ordinary. He had seen no reaction at all, other than enjoyment of their songs. But it had been so easy to stay synchronized with her, with that light touch to guide him. The music had flowed from him, to her, back to him in a continuous roll of sound and _emotion_. It had swelled and ebbed and filled him with such delight. He was not supposed to feel that. But it had been extremely calming. It was strange that emotion sometimes caused such distress and other times just the opposite. The jam session had also been something quite enjoyable. He had never participated in anything like that before. She always seemed to bring him to new experiences, experiences that stretched him, widened his eyes to parts of himself that had previously been hidden. He found that he looked forward to it.

Leaving her at her door grew harder and harder. He found himself once against staring down into her eyes, wanting to tell her something. He wasn't exactly sure what it was he wanted to tell her, but he knew it was important. She waited, but he could not find any words that said what needed to be said. Finally he gave up and bid her good night and walked on to his quarters. Somehow he had to figure out what he needed to say to her.

_____

Author's Note : What's coming next? Maybe a traveling Christmas party?


	14. Chapter 14: Love Will Find A Way

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 14 : Love Will Find A Way**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid December, 2257**

**Friday**

Commander Spock sat at the desk in his office, grading papers. The traveling Christmas party was in full swing. People roamed the halls with plates of food, sharing with everyone in sight. He had already had fourteen offers of food, everything from 'pigs in a blanket' (whatever those were) to brandied fruitcake. He had turned them all down. He wished all those celebrants would just go somewhere else and let him finish grading these papers. Where was his aide when he needed her?

The department secretary appeared in his doorway. "Commander Spock, I have just the thing for you here. Peppermint bark - please try some."

Peppermint. That was the tea that Nyota had made last week. It had a pleasant taste that lingered gently on the tongue for some time. Perhaps he would try some. He took a small piece off the proffered plate and took a small bite. Smooth, creamy substance with small, hard crystals with intense peppermint flavor. Quite nice. He smiled his appreciation and accepted two more pieces before the secretary went off down the hall to find someone else to share with.

He was in the middle of the third piece when Nyota came in the door. She stopped in astonishment. "What are you eating! Don't do it, put that down!"

"It is peppermint bark. Very nice, actually."

Nyota hurried over to him and yanked the remainder of the last piece out of his hand. "That's CHOCOLATE!"

He looked at her in astonishment. "No, I am sure that chocolate is brown. This is white." He looked longingly at the small remaining piece of peppermint bark in her hand. "I would like it back, please, Nyota." He licked his lips to remove the last traces of the lovely creamy substance from his lips. "Please, Nyota, give it back." His voice was cajoling her, low and sultry. "I would _really_ like to eat it."

"Oh, my God, Spock, how much of that did you eat? Come on, tell me, how much did you eat?" She was right beside him now, leaning over him.

He reached up and pulled her down in his lap. Lovely Nyota, this was where she belonged. He smirked at her and drew one finger down the side of her face. "I will kiss you if you give me back the lovely peppermint bark." he crooned at her.

**Nyota**

"Spock! Stop it, the door is open. I've got to get you out of here right now before someone sees you behaving like this." She jumped up out of his lap as he tried to pull her back. She went around the room, shutting down the computers and turning off the lights. When the room was completely dark, she came back to where he was sitting. "Okay, up now, come on."

With great difficulty, she managed to get him on his feet and headed out of the office. He draped his arm over her shoulder and tried to bring her close to him. It felt so good to touch her. He turned his face into her hair and inhaled deeply. She always smelled so good. Maybe he could kiss her now. No, she was forcing him to keep moving down the hall.

"Where are we going, lovely Nyota?"

"I need to get you to your quarters as quickly as possible, Spock, before anyone sees you like this."

**Spock**

His quarters would be very nice. He could definitely kiss her there. He smiled happily. He let her drag him along, down the path in the cool night air.

**Nyota**

Nyota was frantic. How could he have been so stupid? He KNEW what chocolate did to him, he had told her about that party when he was an undergraduate. After that, he had researched chocolate and discovered what it did to Vulcans. He was always careful since then never to eat any. He was stumbling and staggering along and she was having a lot of trouble keeping him upright. Every time they passed a bench, he tried to go sit down on it.

Eventually, they reached the building containing his quarters. She managed to get him inside and into the turbolift. No stairs tonight. As the turbolift rose upwards, he leaned into her and started to caress her hair and face.

"Spock, stop it." she hissed at him. "We're out in public. Behave."

"But it is so nice to feel your hair, lovely Nyota. It is soft." Sighing, he bent his face down to hers and nibbled on her lower lip.

"Oh, Spock, you're going to regret this _so_ much in the morning."

The turbolift door swooshed open and she pushed him out into the hall. Tugging and pulling on him, she managed to get him down the hall to his door. She reached out and tapped the access plate and the door slid open. Into his living room she went and straight across to the bedroom. "Computer, lock door. Lights 50 percent." She called out, and she let him drop down on the bed. She knelt down and removed his boots as he sat on the edge of the bed, totally relaxed. Then she unfastened his jacket and removed it.

**Spock**

He sat there enjoying the feel of her hands on his body. He wished he had enough peppermint bark to have some every night if Nyota was going to bring him back to his quarters and undress him when he ate it. He smiled broadly at her as she pulled his sweater off over his head. Why was she muttering so? He was _very_ happy. When she turned to hang up his jacket and fold his sweater neatly the way he liked it, he stood up and dropped his pants. She turned around to see him with his hands at the waist of his underwear.

"SPOCK! Stop that right now! Lay down on the bed immediately!" She pushed against his shoulders and he dropped down on the bed, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her down with him. Struggling against his strength, she only managed to get free because of his almost total lack of coordination. She lifted his feet up on the bed and rolled him over to the middle of the bed, where he flopped loosely, lying still and grinning up at her.

"Please come and join me, lovely Nyota. I wish to kiss your face now. Please, please." He was crooning at her again.

**Nyota**

Nyota stood looking down at him. She was never likely to see him this free again. Her resolve wavered. He was holding out his hands, begging her to come lay down with him. She sighed. What the hell, he wasn't likely to remember it anyway. She sat down and pulled off her boots. Standing up again, she removed her jumper and sweater while Spock made very appreciative noises from where he lay in the middle of the bed. When she was standing there in her underwear, she looked at him again. Oh, he was DEFINITELY aroused. This was probably NOT a good idea at all.

"Computer. Lights off." She slid down onto the bed beside him and snuggled up against his warm length. He wrapped his arms around her and crooned in her ear. She turned her face toward him and kissed him once, being careful not to put too much tongue into it. When he tried to continue, she turned her face into his shoulder. "No, no more. Close your eyes and go to sleep."

"But... But... Lovely Nyota, I want to kiss you some more. I want to kiss your face and your shoulders, and...." his voice trailed off and all his muscles went lax.

_Oh, thank goodness_, she thought. _He's finally passed out_. She lay there beside him, so comfortable. She could stay just a little while. When she realized that she was drifting off to sleep, all warm in his embrace, she forced herself to get up out of the bed and get dressed again. She tugged the blanket out from under him and covered him up, then let herself out of his quarters.

**Spock**

Several hours later Spock awoke. His head pounded. His stomach lurched. But he remembered every single moment. _Nyota let him kiss her? Chocolate came in colors? _

The entire weekend is spent in contemplation. He can no longer ignore what he feels. What he is beginning to believe that she feels as well. Something must be done.

**Monday**

This is the last Monday before the long winter break. He has brought the music player. They dance the katas. He can barely stand to stop. He watches her work with the dumbbells. When she returns from visiting her family in Africa, he will start the next phase of her training. She is ready.

**Nyota**

She finished her last lap, lifting her head from the water, she placed her hands on the lip of the pool. She felt them clasped in two much warmer hands that easily lifted her from the water to stand on the edge of pool, facing him. Knowing that he would not do such a thing if there were anyone else at all in the pool room, she brought his hands towards her face and brushed her lips lightly across his knuckles, only for the briefest of seconds. Then she dropped his hands and went to dry off. He stood there, gazing at his hands for longer than seemed acceptable.

**Spock**

They are reading a very old book, cover soft and crumbling, pages brittle and yellowed, print small and faded. Sitting on his couch with the gooseneck lamp bent and twisted so that the light falls directly on the pages, he holds the book before him. By increments she has gradually moved closer to him until her body presses lightly against his right side. He hardly dares to breathe.

**Nyota **

Still she cannot get the print to focus. In exasperation, she grasps his right arm and lifts it over her head, bringing it down across her shoulders as she leans forward, bringing her face against the side of his chest and closer to the pale lettering. His hand clenches and then so carefully, so gently, closes about her right shoulder. Suddenly realizing what she has done, she freezes. He does not move. He makes some sort of inarticulate noise, questioning. "yes", she breathes, so faintly only his ears could have heard.

His left hand slowly closes the book, reaching over the side of the couch to lay it on the small table. Hesitantly, so slowly, it comes back across her body until it almost touches her right arm, hovering there. "yes", she breathes again, not daring to hope.

**Spock **

He lays his hand gently upon her arm, enclosing her in the circle of his arms for the first time. By infinitesimal increments she relaxes against him until her head rests lightly against the curve between his shoulder and his neck, her breath soft against his skin. They sit without moving for an unmeasurable amount of time - 5 minutes? An hour? His internal clock is not functioning. So slowly, so softly, his left hand ghosts down her right arm from shoulder to elbow and back again. He barely breathes. "yes", he says.

***

They are standing at the door to her dorm. Once again, he struggles for words. She is looking at him so intently. Finally she seems to come to some decision and speaks to him.

"Spock, I want you to think before you answer this question." She tilts her head and waits for his response. He nods.

"I want to invite you to come to Africa over the long break - for whatever period of time that you wish. I think you will like the heat much better than the cold damp here." She pauses a moment, licks her lips, takes a deep breath, starts again. "I would like to show you my home." Now she waits again.

His thoughts are chaotic. They dart here and there. He is having trouble following any chain of thought for longer than a few seconds. The absolute delight of holding her against his chest as they sat on his couch is still flooding his system. She wants him to come to her home? This is surely very important. But there are things he has decided, things that must be done. Will there be time enough for both? He looks down into her eyes - her face is so soft and open, she is waiting so patiently for him to respond. He is lost. He cannot deny her anything. Somehow he will find the time to do all that must be done. "I...There are things which I must do. Matters which must be attended to." He sees the expression on her face begin to change and hurries to continue. "But there will time - a few days before the end of the leave period. I will be honored to visit your home. And I am sure I will find the heat very acceptable." He pauses again, seeing the glow spreading across her face. "And perhaps we can travel back together." Now there is a blinding smile on her face. His response has been acceptable.

***

She has left for Africa. He will not see her for several days. The longing is so deep, so pervasive that he does not know how he will stand it. But there are things he must do, people he must talk to, legal matters to be completed. He will be very busy. These things _must_ be attended to before he sees her again.


	15. Chapter 15: Here Comes the Sun

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 15 : Here Comes the Sun**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late December, 2257**

The first appointment of the morning was with the head of the Acoustical Engineering department. There he made his recommendation. Although delighted with what he had to suggest, the man was maddening, not able to understand _why_ Spock would agree to relinquish such an able aide. And of course, he could not state the real reason. He was assured that all the paperwork would be taken care of immediately. With a feeling of real relief, he left that office and strode to the campus transporter facility.

When he stepped off the transporter pad at the Vulcan Embassy, he was met by a clerk who conducted him to the office of the legal representative he had contacted several days earlier. There were questions to answer, papers to sign, an appointment to be made with the Elder who would preside over the ritual that would undo what had been done when he was a child. It would be done. He could begin to breath again. He must return the next day. He returned to the campus with a much lighter heart.

***

The next day he returned to the Embassy and met with the assigned Elder. There were more questions. Then he must meditate. And submit to the Elder's hands upon his face, thoughts within his mind. And then, finally, finally, the ritual. And then that irritating presence was gone from his mind. That constant sense of _disrespect_ was no longer there. It was such a relief that he almost staggered. He had not truly realized the extent to which that barely-there enmity had affected his well-being. He thanked the Elder for his services, signed the final stack of papers, and left the Embassy. He was free. He could follow his heart.

**Nyota**

**Africa**

The baking heat was so wonderful after the cold damp of San Francisco. She ran down the familiar trail, through the spreading flame trees, happy to be _home_. She knew that after a few days she would be more than ready to return to the Academy, where her life was now, but today she was full of the familiar, the normal, the heat of the land and the love of her family. And tomorrow Spock would be here. The expressions on the faces of her family when she had told them of the coming visitor! The unspoken questions in the eyes of her parents! She knew that this evening, as they sat on the wide porch in the relative cool there would be questions that she must answer. So now, she must find the answers. So she ran, trying to find her balance.

Whatever the answers were, she knew her parents would welcome him because he was her friend. They would be polite and friendly. But she wanted more than that. She wanted them to love him as she did. Even if there was never any more between them than there was now. Even if she couldn't find a way to break through that Vulcan stoicism, that reserve that cloaked him. She didn't want to change him in any way, she wouldn't have that. He was who he was and she loved him just as he was, _because_ of who he was. And she finally did admit to herself how much she loved him. How great a wonder it was to examine that love - to find how it filled her whole being, defined her in new ways. Somehow she had to find a way to show him how she felt, how they could be _together _if he would, if he wanted it.

But one thing she did know - it would have to be slow. No sudden rush of lust and sex - no, that would not be anything that either of them would be comfortable with. Slow stages, gentle changes - until her patience was worn thin.

She thought back over the last couple of weeks - how things had subtly changed since the night he had eaten that chocolate. She remembered that night - the shock, followed immediately by the flood of wonder, of joy, when he had pulled her into his lap, calling her _lovely_. Laying beside him, all warm, with his arms around her, that wonderful kiss - all things totally unexpected, treasured. She wanted so much more of that. How would she get him to realize what his subconscious already knew?

Her thoughts circled around as she ran, trying to find solutions. She needed a plan. And she had very little experience in this area - she had always been too busy learning, studying, expanding her brain, to spend very much time exploring the differences between the sexes. And there had truly been very few males who had even tempted her. Guys like that idiot Jim Kirk who just wanted to carve another notch on their belts just totally turned her off. To be valued first for her mind - that had been such a marvelous thing. To have developed such a wonderful, deep friendship and then realize that it was more - and could be much more - had been such a revelation.

Where was her best friend when she needed her? Gaila had so much knowledge on this subject. She did tend to go way overboard, but still, maybe she could get some pointers from her when she got back to the Academy. Maybe that would help. With a sense of having made some momentous decision, she curved around and headed back towards her parents' house.

***

She dried the last plate and stacked it in the cabinet. Hanging the dishtowel on the rack on the back of the pantry door, she poured herself a glass of icy fruit juice from the pitcher in the fridge and walked out onto the wide porch, seating herself on the steps near where her parents sat in the rattan swing hanging from the hooks in the porch roof. Now was the time to answer those unspoken questions.

Alhamisi Uhura looked at his daughter. She was no longer a child, but a lovely young woman. She had outgrown that gawky, awkward stage, all elbows and knees, and become a slender, graceful _female_. She was teetering on the brink of full womanhood, he could sense it. Her mind had always been so agile, so entranced with learning, learning anything and everything, but especially languages. And that had not changed. But things were changing within her, she was finally rounding out, becoming more than she had been, even last summer. He was certain that his youngest child was in love for the very first time in her life. And knowing the women of her family, that of his wife, he was fairly certain that this would be _the_ love of her life. The women in this family did not fall easily or frequently, but when they did, it was awe inspiring. He wasn't sure but what he shouldn't just get up and go inside and leave his wife to do the talking, but he sensed that Nyota wanted him there, so he stayed.

M'Umbha Uhura watched her youngest daughter as she sat there on the steps, holding that cold glass of juice in both hands, her head bent. Obviously she was trying to form the words to tell them something important. This was the same look she had had about her when she told them that she was going to join StarFleet. And what she was struggling with now had to be connected to the visitor arriving tomorrow. She had seen the look in her daughter's eyes when she talked about him. This was much more than a colleague or even a friend. This man was very important to her daughter - she wasn't even sure that Nyota realized just _how_ important he was to her. Her youngest daughter had never shown much interest in boys, she had always been too busy with books and recordings of obscure languages to take the time to laugh and giggle in the shadows with a boy like her older sisters had done when they were growing up. Something had changed though, she could sense it. Finally, finally, she had felt that spark, that jolt that told her that the time had come - the time to _feel_.

Nyota drew in a long, calming breath and raised her eyes to those of her parents. "Mama, Baba, I need to tell you about Spock." Not Commander, not my superior officer, just my Spock. "I know I've mentioned him to you before, but there are things I need to say now, before he arrives tomorrow. I...I...I think I love him." Her heart was in her eyes, begging her parents to understand, to approve. "I think I've loved him a long time. I'm not sure, but I think maybe he loves me too - and I want, I need to find out whether that's true." She took another deep breath. "I don't mean to dump all this on you, like this, but I want you to understand how much he means to me."

On the swing, two sets of arms opened at the same time, welcoming their daughter, and she flew up from the steps to join them on the swing, enclosed in their love.

**Spock**

He stepped onto the pad at the Academy, felt the familiar tingling of the transporter beam, and then he was elsewhere. The temperature had increased considerably. It was comfortable - not as hot as Vulcan, but quite pleasant. He stepped down off the slightly raised deck, and there she was, waiting for him. Dressed in vibrant colors, some type of loose garment from the culture of her birth, her hair braided and twisted atop her head far different from the way he was used to seeing it, but the face so familiar, so dear to him, alit with a tremendous smile. The loneliness he had felt for the last few days was instantly gone. He crossed the few feet separating them and stood looking down at her. Her hand reached up and gently brushed the side of his cheek, just a brief brush, so tender. Then, too soon, the fingers left his skin and fell back to her side.

"Welcome to Africa, Spock."

"I am extremely pleased to be here, Nyota."

For another moment they just stood there, looking at each other. Then from behind Nyota, he heard a man's voice "Nyota, we really need to get out of people's way."

"Okay, Baba. Come on, Spock, follow me." And then she was turning away, and following the broad-shouldered man down the hall. He hefted his small duffle bag and followed her. When they reached the street outside the building containing the transporter station, she stopped and turned to him again. "Spock, I would like to introduce you to my father, Alhamisi Uhura. Baba, this is S'chn T'gai Spohkh."

The sound of his full name, spoken so clearly, so perfectly, in her melodious voice sent shivers across his body. With great difficulty, he raised his eyes from her face and looked into eyes which were so similar to hers, but in a definitely male face.

"I'm afraid I'm not the linguist that my daughter is. Is there something I can call you that I can twist my tongue around?" The voice was deep and pleasant, and _friendly_.

"Spock will be sufficient, sir."

"Spock, yes that I can handle." There was a smile on his face now. "And you mustn't call me sir. Alhamisi will do just fine." And he held out his hand.

Immediately Nyota hissed at her father. "Baba, I warned you about that! That's NOT good manners to a Vulcan."

Her father dropped his hand, shook his head, looked about. "Sorry, Ny, I forgot."

"It's quite all right, sir -- Alhamisi. I would be honored to shake your hand." Spock held out his hand, steeled himself.

Nyota looked at him in shock, her mouth slightly open. Her father cautiously held out his hand again and the two men briefly clasped hands. Spock tried to shut out as much as he could, but he felt _curiosity_, _interest_, _approval_.

Nyota's father opened the back of the vehicle parked there and indicated that Spock should put his duffle there. Then he went to the front and slid into the pilot's seat. Nyota opened the door on the other side and slid across the bench in the back to the far side, patting the seat beside her. He folded himself into the vehicle, pulling the door shut behind him. This was a strange vehicle, with doors that only partially closed in the sides. Although when it started and he felt the soft breeze generated by their movement, he thought he understood why it was designed the way that it was. Outside here, in full sun, it was even warmer than it had been inside the building. Very comfortably warm, in fact. Yes, Africa was definitely more pleasant than San Francisco.

**Nyota**

When the shimmering swirls of the transporter beam condensed to reveal the familiar form of the tall Vulcan male, she caught her breath. She had missed him so much! How was it possible to miss someone so much when they had been parted for such a short time? He spotted her instantly, moving down off the dais and crossing the short space to where she stood. She found her fingers resting gently against his cheek. _When had she done that_? His face felt so warm against her fingertips. With a small sigh, she lowered her hand. He hadn't protested - hadn't even lifted his eyebrow at her presumption. _That had to mean something, didn't it_?

She didn't feel like she could ever get enough of him. Although she knew they were blocking the entrance, it was difficult to move. She felt like she was swimming through glue. It would be so much nicer just to stand here and look into his eyes, his gorgeous, warm eyes. She trailed along behind her father until they got outside, then stopped to introduce the two men. She was shocked when her father forgot the most basic thing she had told him and held out his hand for a handshake. She was even more shocked when Spock reciprocated. What was going on here? She was relieved to slide into her father's transport, Spock on the bench beside her, face lifted to the sun, stretching himself in the heat like a happy cat.

She watched him as they drove through the sparse brush towards her parents' home as he watched the scenery, scanning in all directions. Occasionally he asked a question, nodding thoughtfully at the answer. Soon they were stopping, getting out. He retrieved his duffle and turned to be introduced to her mother, bowing slightly in her direction, so polite. Then she was leading him towards the room where he would stay, the room that had been her only brother's when he was a child. Leaving his duffle there, she lead him outside, into the heat, down the pathway where they would run in the morning, showing him where she had played as a child, walking slowly and talking in the afternoon heat.

When they returned to the house, it was time to prepare supper. And if her mother had expected him to act like a guest and sit quietly in the living room while the rest of them worked in the kitchen, she was surprised, because he followed her into the kitchen and asked to be of help, working silently and methodically beside her in the way she was used to, earning her mother's appreciation and approval.

**Spock**

He sampled all of the food on the table. Some dishes were familiar to him, as Nyota had prepared them in his own kitchen. Others were new. One he simply found distasteful and sat there with the food in his mouth, not wishing to swallow it, unable to decide what to do until Nyota perceived his discomfort and passed him a napkin, speaking softly. "Just spit it out in the napkin, Spock. It's okay."

Turning his head, he did so, uncomfortable, but glad to be rid of the offensive taste. He picked up his water glass, drinking deeply. After that, he took much smaller bites of the foods that were new to him, until he was sure they were acceptable.

The meal finished with local fruit. He watched Nyota, to see how she cut the fruit, scooped out seeds and left them on the side of her plate, left the peel behind. The fruit was different than any he had previously had on Earth, interesting.

He helped to clear the table, wash the dishes. Nyota's mother was smiling at him, speaking softly to Nyota, who was also smiling. His help was acceptable, then. He was making a 'good impression'. This was a great relief.

Afterwards they all sat on the broad porch, talking. He found the conversation interesting, the subject changing constantly, talking of the work her parents were doing, events at the Academy Nyota had mentioned to them, events in the world news, events in the lives of her siblings, philosophy, music, the latest book her mother had read - a never ending flow of thought between parents and child, with one or the other always reaching out to include him. It was very acceptable.

Eventually, her parents said good night and went inside, leaving the two of them sitting on the steps. Nyota rose, stood still a moment, then tentatively held out her hand towards him. He rose also, slowly reaching out until their fingertips barely touched. He could feel her through that gentle touch, _happy_, as she drew him down the path they had followed in the afternoon sun, walking once more, not able to leave him just yet.

***

In the early morning he rose and put on the shorts and tank she had asked him to bring, waiting in his room for her to come, tapping lightly on his door, beckoning him to come and run with her. Down the same dusty path they went, running in tandem in the warm sunlight. It was the best run he had had since leaving Vulcan, even though he was not running at anything like his top speed.

***

Too soon the time came to return to the cold damp of San Francisco. He thanked her parents sincerely for their hospitality and stated his reluctance to leave the heat of Africa. Then they were stepping onto the transporter pads, dressed in their Academy uniforms, carrying their duffles. And then they were back at the Academy, once more instructor and aide.


	16. Chapter 16: I Want to Hold Your Hand

**New Day Coming**

**Chapter 16 : I Want to Hold Your Hand**

**Spock**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early January 2258**

**Monday**

When she crossed the gym towards him and gave him the student-to-teacher bow, he did not immediately start the practice session. Instead he began to speak about power and how to apply it. He moved his arms in controlled motions, very slowly, discussing where in the curve the power was applied and the consequences if it was applied in the wrong place. She watched carefully, listening closely. Then he instructed her to test this. He had her move through specific motions, applying power at different points. When he thought she understood clearly, he began the next instruction.

"Apply the power too soon, so that the focus comes _before_ impact." She nodded, drew back her arm, left fly in the movement they had been practicing. At the correct moment, he performed the counter-movement and watched as her hand flew just above his. His fingers tapped against her ribs, only hard enough for her to notice.

Her eyes widened, her jaw dropped slightly. "Oh! Yes, I see how that is wrong."

"Now apply the power too late, so that the focus comes _after_ impact." Once again she moved into the correct position, drew back her arm, moved forward. But this time, her arm collided with his, the power in her hand dissipating uselessly as it passed beyond him.

She stopped, shook her arm slightly, then looked at him, a tiny grin on her face. "Yes, I see that. Total waste of energy. Okay, now let's try it the _right_ way."

They dropped into the waiting position and he began the count. As they moved through the opening movements, he watched her eyes as she calculated where to apply power for each movement. When they got to the strike he had been demonstrating, her hand smacked hard into his arm. Perfectly. His lips twitched and she glowed happily.

***

He was chopping vegetables in the kitchen when she came in. She crossed the room. She had a small bag with her. "Ice cream" she said as she leaned against him to open the fridge. He felt her slender body pressed against him and his whole body tingled from the contact, but he did not acknowledge it. However, later when she sat beside him, deep within her meditation, he watched her over steepled hands, remembering.

**Tuesday**

She raised the little flag on her carrell. For the rest of the lab session she would be surrounded by cadets asking for help. He could sit and watch her without anyone being aware of it. He observed her interactions with the other students. Always smiling, occasionally touching briefly on the arm, once taking her hand and shaping a young woman's mouth, touching her throat, demonstrating the correct shaping for the sound. She was so good with people. He wished he knew how to be so free, so open. This was not logical, it was not Vulcan. So often he seemed to be torn in two directions.

**Friday**

Nyota was reading her messages. That was usually the last thing that she did before leaving his office for her next class. There would be a message there for her he knew - a message that would be very important for them. He was ... _impatient _to hear her response to it. His ears focused on her.

"Well, that's unexpected. Can't answer it now, have to think about what to say."

He was used to her soft mutterings as she worked. At first, it had been somewhat distracting, but she was always so quiet about it, meaning the utterances only for herself. He had become accustomed to it. But this was important and he needed to be sure she understood that.

"Is there something you need to discuss, Nyota?" _Please let her discuss it with him and not just go off and make the decision on her own._

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. It was just this message I got." She was turning off the computer on her desk, straightening out the PADDs and other equipment laid out. She picked up a stack of student PADDs and set them on the corner of his desk. "Here's the grading I got done this morning."

She would be gone in a moment, he must ... _push_ a little. "A message?" He left the question hanging in the air. "Something that disturbs you?"

"You are so perceptive! I don't know how you do that. Yes, a bit disturbing. I've just been offered the position of Academy Aide for Advanced Acoustical Engineering for this coming semester. I will have to work on the wording of my reply, I can't just say 'no thanks' and let it go at that." She was gathering up her belongings, ready to leave the office.

He stood, taking one step towards her, blocking her way out. He could not let her go without discussing this. He took a deep breath. "Perhaps ... Perhaps you should consider accepting the offer." There, it was out. She looked at him in shock. He saw the hurt in her eyes, quickly shielded. He must say something else, quickly. "I... I.... There are reasons.... Nyota, it is not that I do not wish you to continue to be my aide, but... I.... Perhaps there are reasons that this position would be better for you." He was having great difficulty in stating what needed to be said.

Her eyes had never left his, but the expression in them was changing. "Reasons?"

This was _so_ difficult. He swallowed, trying to marshall his thoughts. He had tried to anticipate what she might say, to prepare responses. She was so intelligent, her mind like quicksilver, _surely_ she would understand what he was trying to tell her. "I... If you would like to discuss the reasons ... Privately ... I.... I would like to explain."

Her eyes never leaving his, she nodded.

"1900 this evening .... In my quarters?" The tentative query hung in the air. She nodded again, still focused only on his eyes. His relief was so strong that he almost wavered from his erect position. _She would listen_. _He would have a chance to explain._

_***_

He stood just inside the door to his apartment. The footsteps approached, stopped. He waited. She did not touch the control pad. She did not announce herself. The footsteps receded. Was she leaving? He did not want her to leave.

The footsteps stopped. He waited, not breathing. The footsteps approached again. Still she did not enter. There was a long pause. 45.96 seconds. The footsteps receded again. This was agony.

The footsteps stopped. After what seemed an eternity but was only 20.76 seconds, the footsteps returned. There was no sound from the other side of the door. Perhaps something was expected from him? No, she could not know that he waited, so close, breath held, for her decision.

The footsteps receded again, quicker, further. He began to die. The footsteps paused. Perhaps...? Then resumed again, growing fainter. _No, Nyota, do not walk away from me! _His life turned to ashes. The footsteps stopped, then started again, faster, louder. The door opened and she was there. He began to live again.

***

The door closed behind her and she stood there, so close to him. Once again her eyes were locked on his. "Explain." No other words, just that one command. And it _was_ a command. There were elements of both fear and anger in her voice. There was no need for more words from her, he knew what she referred to. He took a deep breath, centered himself. He wanted to touch her so much, but it was a craving that he must suppress until she gave permission.

"You have been my student, but are no longer." She nodded. Good, she understood that part. "You are now my aide, under my command." Was that comprehension dawning in her eyes? "If.. If you were not my aide, not under my command..." His voice trailed off, watching the wonder in her eyes. "I... Nyota... I..."

Her hand came floating up beside his face. Soft, cool fingers laid themselves gently upon his cheek. "Spock, I think you are trying to tell me something important." Her eyes were shining, her voice soft. Through her fingers against his skin he felt _wonder_, _anticipation_.

"Yes, important." He tried to block the link growing between them, unsuccessfully. He managed to dampen it down so that only a tendril of emotion leaked through from her. So gently, so softly, he let a thread of his desire, his longing through to her. He raised his hand and laid it over hers, there against his face, increasing the link slightly. He watched her eyes widen, soften.

"That... Is that _you_? That warmth? How?" She was puzzled, breathing faster, skin temperature slightly elevated, heart rate up.

"You know that Vulcans have telepathic abilities." She nodded. "And you know that Vulcans do not like to be touched by strangers - or to touch others unnecessarily."

"Yes, that's one of the first things you learn about them in your first year classes."

"There is a reason. There are many receptors in the skin - telepathic receptors. And in the hands... many nerves. Touching someone causes a link between the two people through which emotions can flow." Her eyes moved to her fingers against his cheek, his fingers over hers. Her fingers twitched, but he kept them securely tucked within his. His voice was low now, husky. "I... I have wanted to touch you. To taste your emotions. To... To kiss you." His voice failed.

Her other hand rose so softly to his face. One finger touched his lips, stroked softly across, barely touching. It was like electricity, eliciting small shocks as it moved. Her eyes lifted to his once again. "Then why don't you?"

It was all that he was waiting for. His other arm slipped around her waist, pulling her the last small distance towards him. He felt her slender body mold itself to him. Her breath was soft against his face, her eyes soft, wide, focused on his. He bent his face until his lips barely brushed hers, the way they had last year beneath the mistletoe. Tiny sparks flew between them, sizzling along the skin of their lips. Remembering the night he had eaten the chocolate, the way she had kissed him as she lay against him in his bed, he applied more pressure, parting his lips slightly. Her lips moved beneath his, the tip of her tongue slid softly against the crease of his. Greatly daring, he let the tip of his tongue flow between his lips to touch lightly against hers. She sighed softly, her warm breath floating along his skin. Somehow her other hand was wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him against her. She ran her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck, caressing softly.

His body was on fire. Everywhere she touched, he burned. He felt waves of emotion from her - everywhere she touched him he felt her desire to touch him, to hold him, to be closer, so much closer. Deep in his belly, that _something_ that had been coiled there for so long struggled to break free. Heat there, between his legs, unfamiliar. Swelling, not entirely comfortable. She moved against him, brought her hips more tightly against his. He growled, soft and low, deep in his throat. She moaned in response. He shook. His arms tightened, wanting to _feel _more. She gave a startled little yelp.

Immediately he loosened his hold on her. He had applied too much pressure. He stepped back slightly, so that their bodies no longer touched. He lifted his lips from hers, tilting his head so that their foreheads rested against each other. His heart was pounding, he was gasping for breath. He struggled for control. "Nyota" his voice was soft, husky. "I have little control at the moment. I..I did not mean to ..." He was interrupted.

"Spock." Her voice was so soft, so full of emotion. "It's okay. You just startled me, I'm not hurt." He could feel her within him, reassuring.

He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "Nyota, this is probably not a good idea." He felt her stiffen. He must clarify, _immediately_. "Not yet. I.. I am still your superior officer. There are rules..." She was laughing softly. She moved back against him, snuggled her face against his neck, her arms around him, hands clasped on the back of his neck, twining in his hair.

"Only you, Spock, only you would think of that at a time like this." She sighed, such a happy sound, and relaxed her weight against him.

He lost track of the time completely as he stood there holding her. She was perfect. This was perfect. There was no way life could improve.

_____

Author's note: This is the final chapter of 'A New Day Coming'. The sequel is 'You Had Me From Hello', which will be rated M and covers the second semester of this school year. The first chapter will be posted tomorrow.

And Spock is DEFINITELY going to find out how much life can improve. Snigger, snigger.


End file.
